Nightmares
by Lady Emily
Summary: Five years after being kidnapped by the Assassins, Frank Hardy returns home to find that more has changed than he would have liked. NancyJoe. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: I know, I know. I'm so bad. I should be working on LMM, not be starting something new, but when a plot bunny grabs ahold of me, it doesn't let go. Try to forget about that other story you're all waiting for an update to (and so patiently, too, if I may say so,) and give this one a chance. Also, take note that it won't really be a mystery; it's romance/ drama. It's a little different, but I think you'll like it. As always, please R & R!

* * *

_"Should we stop?" Eighteen-year-old Nancy Drew asked Frank and Joe Hardy. Her car was the only one on the road and if they didn't stop to help this guy he could be there for a long time._

_"He looks like he could use a little help." Frank replied, squinting out the window to see a man on the side of the road, peering under the hood of a brown sedan. "Maybe we could give him a hand."_

_Nancy smiled at her boyfriend as she pulled her blue convertible to the side of the road. She had been dating Frank for over a year now, and one of the things she had in common with Frank (and his brother, Joe) was their eagerness to help people out. It was one of the many qualities she loved about him._

_The three teenage detectives stepped out of the car and walked towards the man. "Everything all right?" Joe called to him._

_The man turned around and ran a hand through his wavy brown hair in frustration. He had a mustache and beard and looked to be around thirty-five. "Car won't start." He smiled apologetically. "I really don't know much about cars." He fiddled with the spark plugs. "Try it now!" he called._

_The teens looked to see a girl of about sixteen in the front seat, trying the ignition. The car didn't start. The younger boy of ten or eleven in the backseat groaned in dismay._

_"Let me take a look." Frank volunteered._

_The man stepped aside. "Thank you, son." he said. "Now freeze!"_

_Frank, Joe, and Nancy stood, shocked, as the man pulled a gun out of his jacket and pointed it at Frank. "Well, well, well, Frank Hardy. You're coming for a little ride." he sneered._

_Frank and Joe's eyes met briefly and they started inching apart. Their usual routine, which was deeply rooted in a "can't cover both at once" philosophy._

_The man spoke calmly and professionally, keeping his gun trained on Frank. "Nobody move or O' Toole will not hesitate to shoot you."_

_Then the three detectives saw with alarm that the little boy in the backseat was not a little boy at all, but an older man with a young face, and a gun aimed at Joe._

_Joe stopped moving, eyes narrowed. "What do you want? We don't even know you!"_

_The man grinned cruelly, suddenly looking more ruthless than helpless. "Maybe you don't know me personally, but you must be acquainted with the Assassins."_

_Nancy let out an involuntary gasp at the mention of the international terrorist group. She looked up at Frank and her heart twisted to see that the concern in his eyes was for her and not himself. She looked around desperately for another car, an escape route, a distraction, anything which would help them scrape their way out of this one. Once the Assassins had prisoners, they were not likely to escape._

_The "boy", O' Toole, stepped out of the car with his gun. "Get in." he ordered Frank._

_Frank knew he was defeated, but he stubbornly said, "What will happen to them?"_

_O' Toole shot a hard look at Joe and Nancy and said, slowly and clearly, "Their punishment is uncertainty. They will live the rest of their lives not knowing if you are dead or alive, if they should mourn or keep searching. Even if they try to forget, that faint spark of hope will force them to remember. It is a terrible thing for a loved one to die"- here his voice hardened, and became even colder, the kind of voice that would haunt them forever- "But not knowing is what makes it torture." His words had a lingering effect, a finality._

_"No." Nancy whispered. O' Toole paid no attention as he forced Frank into the car. Then the older man jumped in, still aiming for Joe. The driver slammed her foot down and the car shot off._

_Joe and Nancy scrambled into the convertible and raced after them. The bearded man leaned out the passenger window and snapped off several shots. The first shattered a headlight and the second came dangerously close to the gas tank. The third and fourth punctured the two front tires with a bang. The convertible began to lose speed, and the Assasins- and Frank- disappeared over the horizon._

_Joe leapt out of the car. "Frank!"_

_Nancy brought her head to rest on the steering wheel. "No." she murmured, tears filling her eyes. **"NO!"

* * *

**_

"NO!" she cried, tossing and twisting beneath the covers. "Frank!"

Another man would be angry, hearing his wife call another man's name in her sleep, but Joe Hardy understood. "Nancy." he called gently. "Wake up."

Her eyes flew open, her face wet with sweat and tears. "Oh, God. I dreamed about it again." She collapsed against him, weeping into his bare chest. "It seemed so real." she whispered.

Joe gathered his stricken wife into his arms and held her close. "I know, baby." He had had his fair share of nightmares too. Had heard that voice over and over._ Not knowing is what makes it torture._

Nancy wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, feeling Joe's voice and the night air calm her down. "I love you." she murmured. They had long ago agreed to stop apologizing for the midnight breakdowns, which were, thankfully, happening more and more infrequently.

"I love you too." Joe replied tenderly, planting a kiss on her hair. He rocked her gently, and her eyes closed as sorrow succumbed to exhaustion.

Not knowing is what makes it torture.


	2. Five Years

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Wow. This was THE HARDEST THING I ever tried to write. Even harder than the time I wrote that oral report on Helen Keller and then lost my notecards the day of the presentation. But you didn't need to know about that. What you might need to know is that what I did here was condense the next five years of Nancy and Joe's lives into one chapter. It's harder than it sounds, trust me, and there's still something not quite right about it, but I think it gets all of the necessary information in, and besides, I want to move on to the good part. So, please read. Hope you like it.

* * *

Nancy and Joe were determined to find him. The morning after Frank's kidnapping his picture was in the Chicago Times. The day after that, his picture was on every tv screen in America, asking anyone who saw this young man to share their information with the police. Nancy and Joe were kept informed on the case's discouraging status. There was simply nothing to go on. No tire tracks, no evidence, and no witnesses, save themselves. Several people phoned in Frank sightings, and Joe or Nancy investigated each one personally, but to no avail. Joe logged on to the Network and ran a check on "O'Toole". There was no such person in the Network's database, and Joe and Nancy could only assume it was an alias.

Frank and Joe's Network contact, the Gray Man, held out little hope of finding Frank alive. "You don't know the Assassins like I do." he said sadly. "If revenge is all they're after, they'll have killed him quick and dumped the body. They aren't going to risk the slightest chance of him escaping. They have no reason to keep him. I'm sorry."

Hearing the Gray Man say it made it sink in. Joe had refused to accept that his brother might not come home. Until now. Joe, Nancy, and Frank's work had gotten them all kidnapped at one time or another, but this time was different. This was the Assassins, the most powerful terrorist group in the world, and they were exacting their revenge on the Hardys for the trouble they had caused over the years. The Assassins were not soft. They gave no second chances. No mercy.

Joe's girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, was the first to see him cry. She hugged him tightly and stroked his hair while he sobbed out his feelings of loss and helplessness. He couldn't help but feel guilty. Frank and Joe were more than brothers; they were best friends, confidantes, teammates. They would stand by each other to the end. How could Joe have stood there and let the Assassins take his brother? He should have done something, would gladly have taken a bullet if it meant giving Frank the chance to escape! The guilt made the pain so much more unbearable.

Nancy's rock was her father, Carson Drew, and her househeeper/surrogate mother, Hannah Gruen. Neither was ever too busy to listen as she bounced ideas off them or comfort her when she felt like there was nothing else she could do; nothing else she could give. Frank and Nancy had had a complicated relationship. Almost since they became friends they were more than friends. There was something special in their friendship; a mutual spark of attraction that left them just a step above platonic. At first, they pretended it wasn't there, that they were in love with their longtime sweethearts, but eventually, they broke down and faced up to what was in front of them all along: they were in love. They were alike in so many ways. Each understood how the other felt and thought. They feared for and defended each other with unspoken loyalty. How Nancy wished she had defended him more forcefully that day on the road! Her heart broke every day missing Frank and his clear, cool logic and sweet, dizzying kisses.

Frank's parents, Laura and Fenton Hardy, were devastated by their oldest son's disappearence. Laura always felt that her husband was bitter that despite his wonderful reputation as a private investigator, his government contacts, and his circle of friends and informers, he had been unsuccessful in finding Frank.

* * *

It had been a year since Frank was gone and the search continued. Nancy's and Joe's friends were scattered into different colleges all over the country. Joe had chosen (with his parents' reluctant consent) to move to River Heights to stay with the Drews, both to be closer to the investigation and to get away from the house, which he had learned to hate with Frank gone. Nancy and Joe attended local colleges to get their degrees, Joe's in law, Nancy's in criminal psychology.

By the third year anniversary of Frank's kidnapping, most people had given up on finding him at all. The police no longer had the manpower to keep up the search for one missing person. Frank's friends had pretty much come to terms with the idea that Frank was gone. Although Fenton and Laura missed their son terribly, would have been happy to know if he was alive, one way or the other, if only to set their minds at rest.

Joe kept at the investigation doggedly, knowing for sure that Frank would not have given up on him. Nancy was a bit resentful that everyone was moving on without Frank but she still understood that some people needed to let go. Nancy herself would not. She and Joe had more faith than that. They had grown closer, bonding over the loss of someone very important to them, and the investigation to find him. But no matter how much time they spent together, they hid their deepest grief, never quite opening up to each other.

Vanessa and Joe had been drifting apart over Frank's disappearance. For the first year, Joe had needed her shoulder to lean on, to cry on, and that brought them together, but after the initial shock, Joe stood on his own. Determined to find his brother, he and Nancy spent time following all sorts of leads and anonymous tips, traveling, searching, but always coming home empty-handed. The long distance between River Heights and Bayport didn't help either. Joe had no time or energy left for a girlfriend, and they both knew this. They split on good terms and without a fuss, but still leaving Joe distanced from even more of the people he loved.

One night, a few months after that, Nancy was coming back from the bathroom in the middle of the night when she heard noise coming from the living room. She investigated and found Joe asleep on the living room couch, tossing and turning. Nancy figured he was having a nightmare, so she shook him gently. "Joe? Wake up! It's only a dream."

Joe coughed and sat up, looking upset. "It's not only a dream." His eyes were red-rimmed, and Nancy felt bad about waking him up. He had been getting so little sleep already. Joe must have read her mind. "Thanks for waking me. I think about it enough when I'm awake." He buried his head in his hands.

Nancy didn't need to ask what he was talking about. "I dream about him all the time." she admitted.

Joe gritted his teeth in frustration. "I can't help thinking about what they must have done to Frank. Just watching them hurt him..." his voice cracked. "And the worst part is the voice. I hear it over and over." he trailed off, not meeting Nancy's gaze.

Nancy pulled him into a hug. Joe was always so determined, so stoic, it was easy to forget that he was still Frank's younger brother. "He was right." she said softly. "It _is_ torture."

It had started then. Nancy and Joe grew closer. There was something there, not a spark, exactly, but a mutual respect and admiration that crept into their friendship when they weren't looking. They still worked on the case, working closely with the Network and capturing several high-ranking Assassins, but it was no good. The breaks in the case came farther and farther apart. People stopped calling in with sightings. And Nancy and Joe found themselves spending time together because they wanted to, not because they needed to. They talked about everything under the sun, not just Frank and the case. They even had fun together, doing things they had stopped when Frank went missing, like watching movies and ice skating. But when one did need to talk about Frank, the other would listen sympathetically.

Their friendship took a whole new turn one particularly bad day full of cold clues and false alarms. At the end of the day, Nancy slipped away to her bedroom to cry into her pillow. Joe followed her. "Nancy."

Nancy turned to look at him through bloodshot eyes. "I don't know if I can keep this up." she said, her voice thick with tears. "Every time we get a call, I think, this time could be it. This time it's really him. But it never is. It's too hard to hope anymore!" She deliberately avoided looking at Joe's face, fearing he'd be angry that she wanted to give up.

Joe sat next to her on the bed and enfolded her in his arms. He knew how she felt. The frustration of day after day of false hope would have discouraged anybody. "I understand." he murmured.

"I'm sorry." she whispered brokenly.

"I don't blame you for anything." Joe reassured her. "You've been great, Nan. You're one of the strongest people I know."

Surprised, Nancy looked up at Joe, only to see his blue eyes staring back into hers. And somehow, whether by instinct or magic, or something else all together, they drew closer, their lips coming together in a passionate kiss.

"It feels like a betrayal." Nancy confessed to Bess and George. Her two best friends, cousins Bess Marvin and George Fayne, had stood by her the whole time, visiting her frequently although they were in other colleges, Bess studying fashion design, George training to join the Chicago Police Department. "I loved... love... Frank. And Joe is his brother. But..."

Bess, the blonde, curvy romantic of the group, gave Nancy a hug. "Nancy, you know that Frank would have wanted you to be happy, and he would have wanted the same for Joe. If you two make each other happy... Nan, you're perfect for each other."

Nancy's face was a cross between amused and miserable. "There was a time when you said the same thing about Frank and me."

Bess smiled sadly. "That was a long time ago. I know you're feeling guilty, but you don't have to wait forever."

Athletic, dark-haired George nodded supportively. "You don't have to rush into anything." she said quietly. "But at least keep an open mind."

Nancy did keep an open mind, although thoughts of Frank still haunted her. Frank had gone missing, and she, his girlfriend, had fallen for his brother. What kind of person was she? She had to wonder what would happen if Frank _did_ come back, although that chance grew slimmer and slimmer every day. Would Frank still love her? Would she still be in love with him?

Joe's mind was uneasy as well. He wanted to be with Nancy. Kiss her. Make her laugh, and hold her when she cried. But how could he make a move on his own brother's girlfriend? He knew it was more complicated, but that was how it felt. He couldn't shake the thought that if Frank hadn't been kidnapped, Nancy and Frank might have been married by now.

The twinges of guilt they felt didn't stop them from moving slowly forward, from chaste, almost friendly kisses to kisses full of intensity and longing. They had an unspoken agreement to keep their relationship semi-private. After all, if they themselves felt guilty about being together with Frank gone, how would others see it?

One day as they kissed on her back porch Nancy broke the kiss and met Joe's eyes. "We don't have to keep this a secret." she said, a bit breathlessly. "We have nothing to hide. We're not sneaking around behind Frank's back. Frank's not here. We don't have him. All we have is each other." Her voice took on a pleading tone, as though she was trying to convince herself as well as Joe.

"You're right, Nancy." Joe agreed thoughtfully, kissing her on the forehead. "I love you. That's nothing to be ashamed of." Nancy beamed at him, and Joe could almost ignore the guilt that came with that statement.

Several months after their relationship went public, Joe proposed to Nancy and she accepted. The media had a field day. Nancy and the Hardy boys were well known for their detective reputations, and had become local celebrities. So when the Chicago Times printed the wedding announcement, the tabloids came out with the inevitable stories about the alleged "Frank-Nancy-Joe" love triangle and all manner of outrageous stories painting Nancy as a whore and Joe as a blood traitor. The stories would almost be funny, Nancy thought, if only Frank were there to laugh with them. Of course, if Frank were there she might never have agreed to marry Joe in the first place. Now there was a guilty thought, but she found it didn't sting as much as it once had. She knew she would be happy with Joe, and she didn't want her past to change that.

The wedding was a small secluded ceremony in the chapel where Nancy's parents had been married. In attendance were Fenton and Laura Hardy, Carson Drew, Nancy's Aunt Eloise and Joe's Aunt Gertrude, Joe's friends Chet Morton, Phil Cohen, and Tony Prito, George, Bess (with her fiance Steven Wilson), and Vanessa (with her boyfriend, Jason Brown). Nancy wore a simple white dress with no train. Standing at the altar, smiling at each other, Nancy and Joe knew there were no regrets. For one day, they thought of themselves before Frank.

They bought a little house just outside of River Heights and lived in relative peace for the first year of their marriage, still getting the occasional "Frank sighting", but it was mostly quiet on the investigation front. Nancy continued to take psychology courses and everyone, Nancy most of all, was proud when Joe was accepted into a top law firm.

Married life suited them. They were affectionate. Sometimes they fought over silly things, just like they always had. One thing that never failed to astonish Joe was how well he and Nancy complemented each other. One's weaknesses were the other one's strengths. They worked well in tandem, like...well, like he and Frank had.

Neither had thought they could be happy again after Frank's disappearance, but both found that, curled up together in bed, they were happy after all. The biggest smudge on their happiness were the nightmares Nancy and Joe sometimes had. The dreams of Frank's kidnapping were still the one thing that could frustrate them to tears.

Or so they thought until the one person they most wanted to see showed up on their doorstep...

* * *

A/N: Whew! Well, that's four hours of my life I'll never get back... Please, you have no idea how much I would appreciate you reviewing this one. Thoughts, comments, questions, criticism, anyone? Thanks so much for reading! 


	3. Return

A/N: Thanks for all of the great reviews! I really appreciate it. So, yes, Frank is coming back, and someone brought up the valid point that he wouldn't be able to find out where Joe and Nancy lived without finding out they were married. I thought over that one for a long time, but decided that I wasn't going to rob you of the reactions, so you can just read on and see how I put it all together!

* * *

The Saturday started out like any other. Joe woke up early to do some running. Joe had used to be a late sleeper, but somewhere during the years Frank had been missing he learned to survive on very little sleep. By the time he got back and showered, Nancy had gotten up, made pancakes, and was eating them and doing her homework at the same time.

Joe came up behind her, stole her fork, and popped a piece of pancake into his mouth. Nancy swatted his hand. "Hey! Get your own!"

Joe laughed. "Pancake miser." He bent down and kissed her. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Nancy smiled.

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." Joe volunteered. Nancy just reburied her nose in her psychology book.

Joe checked his watch as he made for the door. They weren't expecting anyone today except George, Bess, and Bess's fiance Steven, who were coming over for dinner. But that wasn't for hours yet. Joe opened the door, and stared at the man on the doorstep. He was looking into the face of a ghost. His throat was suddenly dry. "Frank!" he rasped, launching himself into the arms of his older brother. After a minute, Joe pulled back and looked at him. Six foot one, brown hair, brown eyes... It was really him. A little older, and a little worse for wear, but it was definitely Frank Hardy. "You...You're back!"

Frank seemed as overcome as Joe was. He pulled Joe into another hug, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Joe?" Nancy called, poking her head around the doorway. "Who was at the-" she stopped short, eyes wide.

The two brothers pulled apart, and Frank's grin broadened. "Nan?"

Nancy flew into his arms. Frank kissed her on the lips, softly, but Nancy pulled back reflexively. "You're here!" she exclaimed, backing up next to Joe. "Oh my God! Come in! Sit down! Can I get you anything? Tell us everything!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Joe took her arm. "Calm down, Nan." He was laughing and crying at the same time. He put an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Have a seat, Frank."

The trio crossed to he couch and sat down. "What happened? Who else knows you're back? When did you-"

Joe cut Nancy off. "First things first. Where are you staying? Did you talk to Mom and Dad?"

Frank nodded. "I saw them first. I made them promise not to call. I wanted to surprise you."

"You did do that." Joe conceded happily.

"As for where I'm staying," Frank continued. "I'm sure there's a motel around..."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Joe said. "You can stay here."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Frank admitted. He looked at Nancy. "I guess you want to hear the whole story."

Nancy blushed. "Only if you're ready to tell it. If you're too tired, we can do it later." But her eyes gave away her eagerness.

Frank's eyes softened as he looked at her. "I don't mind." he sighed. "Well, starting at the beginning... After the Assassins kidnapped me, they tied me up and knocked me out. I don't remember much of what happened after that, but when I woke up a couple of days later I found out that they'd shipped me halfway across the world to one of their bases in Russia. I remember being surprised that they didn't kill me right away. I guessed that maybe they had a bigger plan for me, you know, some other kind of revenge. But they just kept me in this underground cell block with a bunch of other prisoners, none of whom spoke English."

"Do you know where the base is?" Joe wanted to know. " Did you tell the police about it?"

Frank nodded. "We had to abandon the base a few weeks later. Apparently the police had found out somehow. But the Assassins just, very efficiantly, knocked out all of us with some kind of injection and brought us all to a new base. I don't even know what country that was in, but I would have to guess that it was still somewhere in Russia, because all of the guards spoke Russian. We stayed there for about a year and a half, and no one ever came for me. I wondered if they'd forgotten about me. I still don't know. Maybe I wasn't as important to them as I thought I was. Anyway, I spent the rest of the time moving from base to base, trying to communicate with the other prisoners, and learning Russian."

"Wow." Nancy said. " That's amazing."

"Yeah." Frank agreed. "This Russian man who was sharing a cell with me started giving me Russian lessons, and I tried to teach him English. Then, one day, the guards took him away. I tried to find out what happened to him, but, of course, no one would tell me." He shook his head sadly. "I'll probably never know."

"How did you escape?" Nancy asked gently.

"Lucky break." Frank admitted. "We had been moved to a base somewhere in the Middle East. One of the more powerful Assassins at the base was caught by the Network. He poisoned himself rather than confess where their hideout was, but the agents found some incriminating papers hidden on his person, so they found the base and moved in before the remaining Assassins had time to get anyone out." He looked around. "The Network had to keep the bust a secret, of course."

Joe had a thought. "Who was the Assassin?"

"His name was Hassan Roshida." Frank answered.

Joe and Nancy shared a grin; they had done some of themajor legwork that had led to the capture of Roshida.

"All of the prisoners, myself included, were sent to a hospital to get checked out, and then I was sent back to the States. I contacted Mom and Dad, and, well, you know the rest."

Nancy's eyes teared up again. "We thought we would never see you again." Joe noted uneasily the way Frank was looking at his wife.

Frankslipped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "You have no idea how much I missed you, Drew."

At the mention of her maiden name, Nancy sat up straight and met Joe's eyes. The realization had hit them both at the same time. _Frank didn't know they were married! _

Nancy untangled herself from his arms. "Frank..."

"What's wrong, Nan?" Frank picked up her left hand and stroked it absently.

"I'm...we're..." Nancy had a hard time saying the words. "Frank-"

Frank had stopped stroking her hand. Instead he was staring at the ring in silent disbelief. "You're married." he finished.

Nancy didn't trust herself to speak around the lump in her throat, so she simply nodded, trying not to look at either Frank or Joe.

Joe knew Frank would find out sometime, and it would be better to hear it from him. "She's married to me." He said quietly.

Frank's eyes flickered from Joe's to Nancy's, searching for the joke. "Joe? Please. No." He could see they were serious, but he refused to believe it. His world was spinning. His eyes scanned the room and rested on the damning evidence. Their wedding photograph.

Suddenly, his disbelief was replaced by anger and a sense of betrayal. He stood up, eyes blazing. "And WHEN, exactly, were you planning on telling me this?" he asked coldly. "Were you going to wait until I told Nancy that I still love her? Or was I going to have to wait until someone else had the time to fill me in on how my own brother married my girlfriend while I was being **_held prisoner_**!"

* * *

A/N: Well, wouldn't you be angry? Anyway, I'm having so much fun with this story, and I really hope you're enjoying it too. Please, please, please review! 


	4. Insecurities

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: I was so psyched to see all of your reviews!Don't worry, it's really Frank, and I was glad to see that most of youfeel that Frank does have a valid reason to be upset. (He's kind of a jerk in this chapter, but he'll get better.) So please, R & R. Thanks so much!

* * *

"Frank, you don't understand." Joe said calmly. 

"Oh, no, I think I understand perfectly." Frank said angrily. "With me out of the way, you moved in on the one girl you couldn't have before!"

"No!" Joe answered firmly. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Frank..." Nancy spoke up. "It wasn't like that! We just-"

Frank's eyes showed more hurt than anger as he looked at her. "Didn't you care?" he asked her. "I loved you, Nancy. I thought you felt the same way."

"Frank, that was... yes. But that was a long time ago."

"So... since I wasn't around, you decided to marry my brother?" Frank fired back.

Nancy was angry and upset. "I didn't marry him just because you weren't here! We were trying to find you!"

"Oh, well, I hope all that time you spent looking for me didn't interfere with your love lives!" Frank returned maliciously.

"What did you want us to do!" Nancy yelled. "We didn't know if you were ever coming back! We thought you were dead!"

"Is that what you really thought?" Frank shouted. "That I was dead? Or is that what you _hoped_!" He strode over to the door. "I didn't think you would forget me." He opened it. "But it looks likeI was wrong." He disappeared, slamming the door behind him.

"Frank!" Nancy ran to the door, but Joe grabbed her wrist.

"Let him go."

Nancy was crying. "What if he never comes back? What if he disappears again and we never get to explain?"

"I know Frank." Joe said. "He was upset. He'll be back." In the meantime, Joe knew, they had to do some serious reevaluating of their relationship. Looking at Nancy, he felt a sharp pain at the thought of losing her. But he had to know. "Do you still love him?"

Nancy looked up at him through red-rimmed eyes, genuinely shocked. "What!"

"I know you loved him, Nancy, and if you still do, that's going to be a problem. Because I don't want to be your second choice."

Nancy yanked her wrist from Joe's grasp and folded her arms. "Do you really think I would do that to you?"

"I don't know, Nancy." Joe retorted. "But what I do know is that, the first time you see Frank in five years, you're practically making out with him!"

Nancy's jaw dropped at the insinuation. "You know that's not true!" she yelled. "What's wrong with you!"

"What's wrong with me!" Joe yelled back. "I'm having second thoughts about whether marrying you was a good idea in the first place! That's what's wrong with me!"

Nancy's eyes flashed. "I'm going to ignore that because I know that you love me and you're just being a typical man with your stupid, childish-!" She was cut off as Joe pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his, kissing her passionately. She slipped her arms around his waist and waited until they came up for air to finish her sentence. "...insecurities."

"You're right." Joe murmured, kissing her neck.

Nancy took his head in her hands and made him look at her. "I will never love anyone as much as I love you." she said firmly. "Do you understand me?"

Joe kissed her. "I'm sorry."

"You should be." she replied. "This whole situation with Frank is going to be difficult, and I'd rather handle it together than be fighting over it."

"So would I." Joe answered. He pulled her against his chest and rocked her back and forth.

"Good." she replied tiredly, content to relax in his arms for a while.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joe spoke up. "So who's the better kisser?"

Nancy just laughed.

* * *

A/N: Okay, some N/J fluff for y'all. Please, review and tell me what you think! You guys all rock. Seriously. 


	5. George

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

Frank's eyes teared up as he got behind the wheel of his rental car and drove away, not caring where he was going; only wanting to get away. Wanting to get away from their house- Joe and Nancy's.

_Joe and Nancy._ The two people he had missed the most. The thought of their marriage made him sick: physically sick to his stomach. _Joe and Nancy Hardy._

He was driving without even knowing where he was going, so he was surprised when he ended up at the River Heights mall. He had always liked this mall. It was different from any other mall he'd ever been in, because there was a huge courtyard in the back, right next to the lake. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him; he and Nancy came here all the time. Had used to, anyway.

Frank parked the car and walked into the mall, heading for the courtyard. Blinded by his tears, he slammed right into a girl coming the other way, knocking her to the ground. He pulled himself together quickly, wiping his eyes with one hand and offering her the other. The girl didn't take it. She just stared. Then she laughed and picked herself up, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. It's just that you look like someone I used to-"

"George?" Frank asked disbelievingly.

Her eyes widened. "Frank Hardy?"

The two old friends hugged each other right in the middle of the mall. "Oh my God!" George cried. "This is incredible! Where have you been!"

Frank smiled tiredly. "It's a long story." He studied his friend subconsciously. With her slim figure and dark hair and eyes, George Fayne was even prettier than he remembered.

George peered into his bloodshot eyes. "I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you don't look so great."

Frank shook his head and attempted a smile. "I don't feel so great." With a hint of resentment in his voice, he added, "I just came from Joe and Nancy's place."

"Oh." George said. "OH." She repeated as the understanding hit her. "You gonna be okay?"

"I don't know." Frank answered honestly.

"Want some company?"

Frank didn't know about that either, but something made him nod. They made their way into the courtyard and sat down, and Frank explained everything that had happened to him, starting with the kidnapping, for the second time that day. George listened sympathetically, and Frank found himself pouring out the story of his fight with Nancy and Joe. When he was done telling her how badly he'd taken the news of their marriage, he put his head in his hands, unable to look her in the face. "It hurts." he confessed. "Like they forgot about me."

George put her hands on his shoulders and rubbed them gently. "Frank." she said slowly. "If there's one thing they never did, it was forget you. For months...years... Joe and Nancy worked day and night to find you. That was one of the things that brought them together. You..." George's eyes were misting over too. "Your dea- disappearence didn't hit anyone as hard as it hit those two. They kept looking after everyone else had lost hope... But they had to move on. This must be so much harder for you than I can even imagine, but if there's anyone whose happiness you shouldn't begrudge, Frank, it's them."

Her words hit Frank like a rock. He hadn't thought about it like that. He had been thinking about himself and not the two people he loved most in the world. Of course he hadn't meant the things he'd said to them earlier, when he'd accused Nancy and Joe of going behind his back and forgetting about him. He knew them well enough to know they would never do that.

"I understand." he said finally. "I just don't know if... well, if **_I_** can move on."

George smiled at him. "Nobody's asking you to to do it in one day. You have all the time you need to adjust to this."

Frank nodded reflectively. Then, grinning up at her, he asked, "So what else has changed around here? Any more weddings I should know about?"

George gladly filled him in, relieved that the tense atmosphere had faded. Soon, though, she glanced at her watch.

"Somewhere to be?" Frank questioned good-naturedly.

George flushed. "Nancy's actually. She invited Bess and Steven and I over for dinner in about an hour. ...Although, if you're up for it, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I brought a date." she teased.

Frank laughed. "As much fun as that sounds, I don't think I'm ready to go back there. I... I don't want to say something stupid and make things between us even worse."

"Gotcha." George replied. "But seriously, Frank, I think it would take a whole lot more than some name-calling to keep those two mad at you for long."

Frank nodded. "I'll talk to them tomorrow. Tonight I'm going to drive around and look for a place to stay."

George looked surprised. "You don't have a hotel?" The last she remembered, Frank was the logical one who took care of that sort of thing ahead of time.

"I planned to stay with Joe, but that didn't really work out too well..."

"Oh, right." George looked embarrassed. "Hey, you can stay at my place." she offered spontaneously. "I have lots of room. I used to share my apartment with Bess but she moved in with Steven when they got engaged."

"I don't want to intrude..." Frank began.

"Don't be ridiculous." George said. "I think we could both use some company." She blushed at the way that had come out. "I mean... oh, never mind."

Frank grinned. "In that case, I'd love to."

She took out her cell phone and dialed Nancy. "Hey, Nan? I can't make it tonight." She listened to Nancy talk on the other end. "Yeah... Are you okay?... Okay... I'll call you tomorrow... Bye." George hung up the phone. Nancy was upset, she was sure of it. She had tried to hide it, but you weren't friends for as long as George and Nancy had been without being able to pick up on this sort of thing.

"Did she sound okay?" Frank asked anxiously.

George made a quick decision to be honest with him. "She wouldn't say this, but I think she's worried about you. She really cares about you, Frank. And Joe will be worried too. Maybe you should give them a call. Just to say you're okay."

Frank considered carefully. "I don't want to have to do this in front of Bess and her fiance..."

George realized he still wasn't ready to face them. "Do you want me to call?" she offered.

Frank nodded gratefully. "Thanks, George."

George flipped open her cell phone. "Hey, Nancy, it's me again..."

* * *

A/N: Whew, am I tired. I don't have the concentration to close with a witty insight or one-liner tonight. It's just too late for that. Well, I hope you liked this chapter.Please review! Questions, comments, criticism... all welcomed!


	6. Target

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: A bunch of readers commented on this George/ Frank thing I hinted at last chapter. I, um, don't really know what I want to do with them yet... All I know is that George is an awesome character and she doesn't get enough credit in the books. I don't know why I don't use her much in my stories; all I can say is that I'm afraid she might take some of the spotlight off Nan! But whatever. As usual, please read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

"He's safe." Nancy reported, covering the phone with her hand. "He's with George."

Joe smiled faintly, seeing the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. Relief? Or something else? "I told you he'd be fine. It takes a lot more than a huge, life-shattering, screaming-your-lungs-out argument to get rid of a Hardy." he cracked weakly.

"I've noticed." Nancy scoffed, trying to wipe her eyes casually. She heard George laugh over the phone and realized she was able to hear their banter. Bemused, she paused for a moment before saying, "George? Thanks for calling..."

"No big deal." George replied warmly. "And, Nan? Frank says he'll call you tomorrow. You guys need to talk. All three of you."

"I know." Nancy said. It took every ounce of her self control to restrain herself from apologizing to Frank through George. It was something she wanted to do in person. "What about Bess? Should I tell her Frank's back?"

She could practically hear George frowning. "It... might be better to leave Bess out of the loop until the drama plays out..." She suggested uncomfortably.

Nancy privately agreed. She didn't like to keep secrets from her best friend, but Bess was a notorious romantic, and Nancy didn't know if she'd be able to explain the Frank situation without having an emotional breakdown. "I guess you're right." she admitted. "Besides, it might be better if she gets to see Frank in person."

"Exactly." George agreed, still sounding a bit guilty about the decision. "Well, that's that..."

The girls finished the call. Nancy hung up the phone, only to pick it up again when it rang a second later. "Hello?" Joe watched her curiously as she twisted her face into a fake smile. "Mom, hi! Yes, of course we saw him..."

Ah, Joe thought. His mother. It was amazing to him that Nancy could talk to his father for hours, but she was never quite at ease with Laura Hardy. Gently, Joe relieved her of the phone. She smiled at him gratefully. "Hey Mom... No, Frank's not here. We had a big blowout. You really could have warned us that he was back..."

Nancy left the kitchen, sitting on the living room couch and resting her head in her hands. Joe joined her a few minutes later, leaning over the back of the couch to plant a kiss in her hair. "Can you believe it's only noon?"

Nancy laughed weakly. "What a day... Frank, George, your mother...

Joe moved to sit next to her on the couch. "Why does my mother go in the same category as Frank and George?" he wondered teasingly. "What has she ever done to you?"

Nancy sat back and considered. "Well, I'm not even going to talk about her non-warning about the whole Frank fiasco. Didn't she think about how Frank would react to the news that we were married? What was she thinking!"

"She means well." Joe assured his wife. His eyes sparkled. "And I thought you weren't going to talk about it?"

"Sorry." Nancy said, obviously still angry about the situation.

"You never answered my question." Joe reminded her. "Besides the Frank thing, what don't you like about my mother?"

Nancy blushed faintly. "Well, you know how she's always hinting about grandchildren every time we see her?" she asked.

Joe grinned.

"Well, when you aren't in the room, she gets a bit more... graphic." Nancy finished, trying to be serious, but unable to keep from smiling.

Joe chuckled. "That does sound like Mom..." He put an arm around her shoulders. "Well, she'll have Frank back to fuss over for a while, at least. She'll probably forget all about us for now."

"Maybe." Nancy said skeptically.

"Maybe," Joe whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "We should just give her what she wants..."

"Maybe." Nancy agreed coyly.

* * *

"Welcome to my humble abode." George announced, flicking on the light switch and tossing her keys on the table.

Frank followed her into the apartment. It was not huge, but big enough. A little messy, but not dirty. Looking around, he saw a bathroom, two bedrooms, a kitchenette, and a living room. "Nice place." he said, setting down his duffel bag. All he had with him was a few changes of clothes, a razor, and a toothbrush, as he hadn't had much time for shopping since his return.

"Thanks." George answered. She pointed out each of the rooms to get him oriented. "Sorry I don't have the bed in Bess's room made up; I wasn't really expecting to get visitors."

"No," Frank said quickly. "This is great. Compared with where I've been sleeping for the past few years, the couch is perfect." He looked at George. "I know I've been saying this, but thank you again."

George smiled amicably. "That's what friends are for. Now, can I get you something to eat?"

Frank realized he was still a bit queasy from his earlier encounter with his brother. "No thanks." he said uneasily, taking a seat on the couch. "I'm not really hungry."

George studied him carefully. "Okay...well, help yourself if you get hungry later." she told him, gesturing to the refrigerator. She moved to sit next to him on the couch. "You'll feel better once you've talked to them." she advised softly.

"I know." Frank replied. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." George repeated. Then she grinned. "How about a board game? You still like chess?"

A rush of memories hit Frank.

_Joe had never really liked chess; he had the logic but not the patience to play it. Nancy played though. They used to play sometimes, and although she was good, he beat her every time. Except once, when they were in the middle of a case in New York a few Christmases ago... he remembered the case vividly: they had gone to NYC to catch a couple of cat burglars and ended up foiling an assassination plot on the prince of Sarconne. He remembered how much fun he'd had on that particular case. Would he, Joe, and Nancy ever have another chance to have fun like that? Did Nancy and Joe even still solve cases?_

A wave of sadness broke over him as he realized how isolated he had become from them.

"Or... did you want to be alone?" George asked awkwardly after a long pause.

Frank snapped out of his reverie. "No, no. Chess sounds like fun."

"Great." George said, going to get the chessboard. "I have to warn you, though, I'm not very good!"

She beat him. On the other hand, he was pretty rusty.

* * *

"How many were rescued?" the man in the dark hood asked sharply.

"Fourteen." the second man answered in Russian. "But they know nothing. They have no information to give to the network. There is no danger from them."

"I want them killed." Though he was short in stature, the first man's cold, authoritative voice and masked features made him intimidating.

"I'll send out our top assassins personally." The second man replied unflinchingly. "The fourteen prisoners will be dead by this time tomorrow."

"Not so fast." hissed the hooded man. "Thirteen. I want to kill the other myself."

"Personally?" the second man muttered. It must be an important kill if his superior desired to do it himself. "But why? Who is this man?"

"Do not ask questions!" the short man pulled out a pistol and aimed it at his questioner's temples.

The second man did not cower. "I should not have questioned your motives." he murmured calmly. "But I must know which of the fourteen you wish to kill."

The hooded man lowered his gun. "Very well." he said. He threw off his hood. Beneath it was the face of a young boy. "The target I want is Frank Hardy."

* * *

A/N: Okay, weird chapter, I know, but I needed some filler before my next one, which I hope to get up relatively soon (though I might try to finish the last chapter of LMM first.) As you can probably tell by the little conversation at the end of the chapter, I've decided to make this longer; I'll be adding in some mystery/action instead of the original healing-type theme I was going for before, so I hope that interests you! Please review. 


	7. Shot

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

"Relax, baby. We can work this out." Nancy assured her husband in a calm voice.

Joe continued pacing. "I know. I know. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just... I just have this feeling something's going to go wrong."

Nancy went to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "We'll never get anything done if you have that attitude!" she teased gently. She gave him a peck on the lips and smoothed his ruffled hair with her fingers. "It's only Frank." she soothed. "It may have been a while, but he's still your brother. He still loves you."

Joe lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, now _you're_ reassuring _me_?" he asked.

Nancy shrugged. "We have to switch off once in a while..."

The doorbell rang, and Nancy's heart jumped into her throat, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She couldn't help but wonder if it was too soon to talk to Frank. Had they given him enough time to recover from the shock? He probably still felt hurt, and betrayed... She opened the door.

A tired-looking Frank stood on the other side, George just behind him, grasping his hand for moral support. "Come in." Nancy breathed. She was relieved to see Frank again. In the past day and a half, she often worried this whole thing was a hallucination. She sent a grateful smile to George; she was glad Frank could still open up to his old friend. "Sit down."

Joe approached his brother slowly, wondering if he was still angry. After a second, he pulled Frank into a tight hug, regardless.

"I'm sorry, Joe." Frank rasped, hugging him back as his resolve started to crack. Tears appeared in his eyes.

"Getting sick, Frank?" Nancy asked timidly, hearing his voice crack.

Frank pulled away from his brother and gave her a weak smile. "Maybe. It might have helped if I hadn't stayed up all last night getting whooped at chess..." He sent George a look.

"Hey!" George countered playfully. "It's not my fault you were so determined to beat me that we had to play eight games in a row!"

Nancy and Joe grinned at each other. Maybe this wasn't going to be as hard as they'd thought.

"Wait a second," Nancy joked. "Someone finally beat the mighty Frank Hardy at chess?"

Frank shook his head. "I've lost my touch..." He looked at the woman he had been in love with for so long, taking in the dark circles under her eyes which told him she'd gotten as little sleep last night as he had. Just the sight of her, tired and harried, brought back feelings he knew he couldn't allow himself to harbor. He tried to repress his hopeless thoughts, but he could feel himself warming up to her despite himself. Next he looked over at Joe. Although he loved his brother, Frank still felt cold toward him. It was as if an invisible wall stood between them and the way they once were. Frank didn't know if he would be able to forgive Joe's marriage to Nancy. They had been brothers and best friends, and Frank had thought nothing could change that, but it made the betrayal so much more painful. Frank wasn't so sure anymore.

"Frank?" George gave his hand a squeeze.

He looked at her, startled, and dropped the hand he'd forgotten he was holding. "Joe, I think we need to talk." he said spontaneously, blurting out what he was thinking.

Joe glanced at Nancy and then nodded to Frank. "Sure thing." he said, suddenly nervous. "Hey, come on in." He led Frank into the kitchen.

Nancy stared after them for a moment, finally turning to look out the window. "This is hard." she whispered to no one.

George wrapped her arms around her best friend from behind, leaning her chin on Nancy's shoulder. "I know it is." she answered quietly. "But if anyone can get through this, it's you three."

Nancy's vision blurred with tears of frustration. Staring out the window, she only vaguely registered the unfamiliar car parked on the opposite side of the street.

* * *

The man in the car appeared to be studying a road map. Under the creased paper, however, he was calmly loading his high-powered assault rifle, the Assassin weapon of choice. As he attached the silencer to his rifle, he sent a furtive glance toward the house across the street. "Target in position." he muttered to himself, pleased. Stashing the loaded gun under his seat, he began attempting to refold the map, biding his time. Today would be a simple kill, a by-the-book Assassin murder of Frank Hardy. Even better, he would die in front of his own brother and the girl, Nancy Drew, the very two who would have protected him with their lives...

Deciding it was futile, he crumpled up the creased road map and tossed it into the backseat.

The man called "O' Toole" looked up at his boyish face in the rear view mirror, running his tongue over the cyanide capsule embedded in his false tooth. He grinned. He would not need it today.

* * *

In the kitchen, Frank and Joe were having coffee. "We used to live on this stuff..." Frank said with a smile.

"I still do." Joe assured him, grinning. "And I'm sure you'll be re-addicted before you know it."

There was a lull in the conversation. Joe cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Listen, Frank..." he trailed off lamely, not sure how to say what he wanted to talk about.

"I still love her." Frank confessed without warning, his voice raw.

Joe didn't know how to respond. What was there to say? No matter what he told his brother, it wouldn't change anything. He and Nancy would still be married. At least that's what he hoped. His blood ran cold as he remembered the chemistry Nancy and Frank had used to share. _Maybe they still did._

Frank was ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry, Joe. I don't know what to do. I can't just stop loving her... I don't have anything anymore."

"That's not true." Joe replied automatically. "You have me. Mom and Dad. George... and Nancy too." _To some extent. _

"Do you still solve mysteries?" Frank asked suddenly, knowing very well the unspoken restriction on his relationship with Nancy.

Joe smiled, glad to be off such a dangerous topic. "Only occasionally." he admitted. "Small cases. I'm working in a law firm. Nan's buried in her psychology course work. We never got around to starting that private detective agency... not without you."

Frank recognized the respect Joe had had for him, even after his disappearance. His brother's loyalty meant a lot to him. "Thanks, Joe." But Nancy entered his thoughts involuntarily. Quickly, suddenly, he drained the rest of his coffee, stood up, and walked back into the living room to join George and Nancy.

After a second of hesitation, Joe followed.

Nancy and George were talking quietly on the couch; Frank sank down next to George. "What-" he started to ask, but was cut off by the shattering of the picture window immediately behind him, accompanied by the loud click-click-click of silenced gunfire.

Ping! Ping! Bullets flew over the heads of the couch-sitters, instead embedding themselves in walls and furniture, photographs and lamps splintering into sharp needles of glass.

Joe was not so lucky. Unprepared for the sudden onslaught, he had no time to duck. Catching three bullets to the torso, he stumbled backwards with a groan.

"Get down!" George yelled. She and Frank were already on the ground.

Nancy had other things on her mind. "Joe!" she screamed, seeing him fall, slump to the ground, his blood spattering the carpet and soaking in. She got up and started for him.

"Get down!" George repeated frantically. "Nancy! Wait!"

Nancy either did not hear or did not listen. As she hurried past Frank, he grabbed her around the waist and forced her to the ground. She struggled against his hold. "Joe!" she shrieked. "Frank! He's hit!"

"I know." Frank hissed urgently. "But you won't be able to help him by getting shot yourself!"

The hail of bullets did not stop.

Nancy went limp and Frank loosened his grip on her shoulders. Without warning, she shoved him aside, standing, leaping over the back of the couch to where Joe lay still. A puddle of blood stained the floor under him as it flowed from several wounds in his chest. He was unconscious. "Joe!" Nancy cried, looking for something with which to stem the blood flow. She panicked, finding nothing within reach, and, not willing to leave his side, she pressed her hands to the tender flesh, sticky blood oozing through her fingers. "Joe! No, don't do this! Please, baby, hang on!" she pleaded. "Help, Frank! He'll die!"

Suddenly their attacker stopped firing. The chairs and tables stopped ripping themselves apart as Frank and George heard a car zoom away. Frank made straight for his brother and Nancy. "Oh, no." he gasped, seeing Joe's pale, still form. "George, call an ambulance! George was already at the phone.

Frank checked Joe's pulse and found it to be fluttery and inconstant. Silent tears poured down Nancy's face as she whispered his name over and over. "Joe... Joe... Please don't die!" she murmured tenderly, as if hoping he would hear and obey.

Frank glanced at the distraught girl in alarm. "Nancy! You're bleeding!"

Nancy barely spared a thought for the red stain spreading below her thigh. "It doesn't hurt."

_She's in shock,_ Frank realized. Running into the kitchen, he returned with two dishtowels. "Nancy, you need to lie down. You're going into shock."

Nancy simply shook her head. She wasn't going anywhere. Frank gently removed her hand from Joe's bleeding chest and covered the wounds with a the dishtowel, applying pressure. He handed Nancy the other towel. "Put this on your leg and lie down." he instructed firmly. "I'll take care of Joe."

Instead of pressing the towel to her wound, Nancy lay down right where she sat, in the middle of the growing red stain on the carpet. Not taking her eyes off of her husband, she propped the towel under her head and faced him, taking his limp hand and smoothing his clammy skin with her fingers.

"Close enough." Frank said, barely looking away from the dishtowel he held; it was nearly saturated. Nancy's bloodstain had stopped spreading, and Frank decided her wound couldn't be too serious. As for Joe, though... Frank heard sirens in the distance and could only hope they would arrive in time.

* * *

A/N: There you go. Fast update for me; I'm all about the action. Hope you liked this one; sorry about the cliffie... Anyway, here's the deal: You want a new chapter, _I want reviews. _Get it? 


	8. Nightmare

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I feel like writing a lot more often these days, so I'll be trying to get a few more updates up before New Years'. Also, word on the street has it that my first, unfinished story, Columbus Connection will be making a comeback sometime in the next few weeks!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

George and Frank stood back silently as they watched the paramedics load the unconscious Joe into the ambulance. Another paramedic took a look at Nancy's leg. "It's fine." She insisted faintly. 

The paramedic nodded. "It doesn't look too bad, but you're going to want to get it bandaged at the hospital." he advised.

"Can I go with Joe?" Nancy requested weakly.

The paramedic should have said no, after all, he was almost positive the man would die, and he didn't want this girl to have to see it. Plus she would only get in the way. On the other hand, she needed medical treatment as well, and it didn't look like she was going to take no for an answer. "Very well, ma'am," he sighed. "But we'll need you to stay out of the way. Mr. Hardy is in bad shape."

Nancy nodded tautly and allowed him to help her limp into the ambulance.

"We'll take my car and meet you at the hospital." George called after her.

Nancy didn't look back. The ambulance swung its doors closed and raced down the street, sirens blaring.

Frank couldn't stand the helplessness he felt. _Had he found his brother only to lose him again?_

"Come on." George said softly, opening the car door for him. "Joe's tough, Frank. He'll pull through."

By the time Frank and George arrived at the River Heights Hospital, Nancy's leg and been bandaged and she was sitting restlessly in the waiting room. Frank could immediately tell that the shock had passed. "How's Joe?" he asked her, sitting down beside her.

"I don't know." Nancy said tearfully. "They won't let me in to see him. That means it's really bad." she whispered.

Frank was inclined to agree, but he didn't want to make her any more upset, so he said nothing, instead looping his arm around her shoulders to give them a comforting squeeze.

Nancy shook off his arm; suddenly she couldn't bear to have Frank touch her. Not while Joe could be dying. Not ever again.

Frank felt his stomach twist as he realized she didn't want him anywhere near her. He looked away from her and instead tried to meet George's eyes.

George was thinking about other things. "Who did this? Why?" she asked.

Frank shook his head. "It could have been anyone. We have loads of enemies. And we haven't checked outside for clues or anything..."

Nancy leaned her head against George's shoulder and George gave her a tight hug. Then Nancy took a deep breath and sat up. "Wait. What about that car?"

"What car?" Frank asked urgently.

"The... the one parked across the street." Nancy tried hard to remember, but the images were blurry as her eyes refilled with tears. She took another breath to regain her composure. "Earlier. It was black... I've never seen it parked there before."

"Oh, that car?" George said. "The one with the kid sitting in it?"

Frank was alarmed. "A kid?"

"Yeah," George said. "In the front seat. Looked like a little boy. He had dark hair. Reading the newspaper or something."

_A dark-haired little boy in a car by himself? _Frank thought. "George, I think that was an assassin."

"The one that kidnapped you?" George asked. "O' Toole?" She was familiar with the details of the case.

"I don't care who he is." Nancy said flatly. "If I ever see him again I'll kill him with my bare hands."

Frank could see she was hurting over Joe. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd felt the same way when he'd been kidnapped. He was vaguely jealous of her feelings for his brother, but he couldn't stand seeing her so destroyed. "Nan..." he moved to take one of her hands.

"Don't!" she said loudly, yanking her hand back. "If that _was_ an Assassin, this is all your fault! _You _led them here! They were probably aiming for you!" The other people in the waiting room looked over in surprise at Nancy's sudden outburst.

Frank recoiled from her. "No..." he denied. But somewhere in the back of his mind he suspected she was right._ This _was_ his fault._

George looked on, eyes wide. She couldn't believe Nancy would say that to Frank, after all he had been through. She knew that Nancy was upset right now, but even so, Nancy usually thought before she spoke. "Frank, you know Nancy didn't mean that." she said.

Nancy said nothing, but squared her jaw angrily, sending Frank the clear message that she _had_ meant it.

A nurse came into the waiting room. "Mrs. Hardy?" she asked kindly.

Nancy got up and limped over to her anxiously. "Is he..." she asked fearfully.

The nurse pursed her lips sympathetically. "He's alive..."

"Thank you." Nancy breathed, weak with relief.

The nurse shook her head sadly. "We haven't been able to revive him, Mrs. Hardy. He's in a coma. I'm so sorry."

Nancy felt as though the bottom had fallen out of her world. "No..." Frank caught her as she stumbled backwards, suddenly too weak to stand. She didn't have the motivation to push him away.

* * *

That night, five Russians, four Arabs, two Belgians, an Italian, and a Bulgarian were murdered as they slept. All died of gunshot wounds to the head; the messy kind caused by an assault rifle.

* * *

A/N: Yes, very short chapter, but there'll be more soon. Leave a review!  



	9. Drama

A/N: Merry Christmahanukwanzikah to all my reviewers. Thank for the reviews!

* * *

As soon as Joe was stable, Nancy was allowed to see him. The nurse had warned her that he was completely unresponsive, but she didn't fully understand until she saw him. He was lying between the white sheets, hooked up to dozens of tubes; fluids, blood, and oxygen being pumped into him, a chart beeping out his slow heart rate. Of course she'd seen him in the hospital before. Detective work was often dangerous. But she had never seen him this still; this pale; this quiet. 

"I'm here, Joe." she whispered, almost expecting him to open his eyes. Ever since she had known Joe, he was always so vibrant and full of life and energy. She couldn't stand to see him looking so... dead. Approaching the bed, Nancy gently ran her fingers over the clean bandages covering his chest, relieved that there was no more blood; it made it easier to pretend he was only sleeping. She sat in a chair at his side for a long time, just holding his hand. She didn't remember ever feeling so alone; Joe was here, but at the same time, he wasn't. "Joe, wake up." she said. "Please, Joe, come on... I love you."

He lay still.

Tears slid down her face (would she ever stop crying?) as she gingerly climbed into the bed next to him. She half-wanted to die right there. Kissing Joe's bare shoulder, she rested her head on it gently, being careful not to disturb his wounds. Closing her eyes, she pretended they were at home.

A minute later, the door opened quietly and Nancy could hear Frank and George enter the room. Just thinking about Frank made anger bubble up inside her.

Nancy had no idea what prompted her to be so mad at Frank. Honestly, she couldn't bring herself to blame him for any of this; he had no idea he was being followed, he couldn't have known this would happen. But the irrational side of her mind hated him for coming back from the dead to rip open all these old wounds. She decided the best thing to do was just pretend to be asleep.

Frank sat in the chair Nancy had vacated. After a moment's hesitation, he reached over and smoothed her hair away from her face. "What are you doing?" George asked sadly. "You know this can't work out."

Frank cast a last concerned look at Nancy before turning to George. "I know, but I'm still hoping it will." he answered quietly.

George shook her head. "You have to get over her." she told him. "You know she'll never leave Joe. And you shouldn't want her to."

A new wave of sadness broke over Nancy as she realized how much Frank was hurting. She almost wished she could tell him that she loved him, but she knew she didn't, not as anything more than friends, not anymore.

Frank stared at his comatose brother; the doctor said he didn't know when, or if, Joe would wake up. _This wasn't fair, _he thought. Not to him, or Joe, or anyone. _The Assassins destroy lives, and we're just a few of many.

* * *

_

Nancy was woken a few hours later by the arrival of her father and Fenton and Laura Hardy. Laura immediately ran to her son's bedside, but Carson and Fenton went to Nancy. "How are you, sweetheart?" Carson asked his daughter, hugging her tightly.

"It's not good, Dad." Nancy said, her voice cracking. "They don't know if Joe will..."

"Frank told us that on the phone." Fenton entered gently. "But how are_ you _holding up?"

"The leg stings a little, but other than that, great. Just great." Nancy answered bitterly.

Fenton nodded in understanding, feeling pretty frustrated himself. "Who did this?"

Nancy glowered. "I'm sure Frank will be happy to fill you in."

The hostility in her voice ripped at Frank, along with the unspoken accusation in her words. "I-"

Nancy ignored him. "We think it was the Assassins looking for Frank. You think they'd have better aim for such prestigious professionals..."

The three adults stared at her, shocked by her attitude towards Frank. Carson wrapped an arm around his daughter. "Nancy, I think you should know that thirteen other people were murdered last night: the others who were rescued with Frank." he told her in a low voice.

Nancy pursed her lips. _At least we know that they're dead. There's no chance **they'll** come back in five years to start another nightmare._ Even in her current state, Nancy could not bring herself to say that in front of Frank, so she stayed silent.

Frank's world spun. Now there was no doubt about it. The Assassins were responsible for the attack. It was meant to kill him._ The others... they thought they were home free. _He remembered how they had celebrated when they finally saw the police, even though they didn't all speak the same language. _And now they were dead. A short-lived victory._

"It's some kind of miracle that Frank wasn't killed like the others." Her father continued.

"Miracle?" Nancy repeated incredulously. "At what expense? Joe's life?"

"Oh, honey, Joe's a fighter. He'll pull through." Carson murmured back.

"And if he doesn't? What then?" Nancy cried.

At this, Laura broke into quiet sobs. Frank moved to embrace his mother. He couldn't even argue. He agreed with Nancy; this was his fault. It should have been him lying there, not Joe.

"Hold on." Fenton said, more to Frank than Nancy. "Is that what this is about? None of this is Frank's fault."

Nancy knew it wasn't, but she couldn't bite back the hurtful remarks. "They were aiming for him and hit Joe instead."

Frank couldn't breathe. No physical beating could ever hurt this badly. Suddenly, he ran for the door.

Nancy stared after him, feeling horrible for saying what she had, knowing that it wasn't his fault, and yet unable to admit it. Especially in front of all these people. Her father, Fenton and Laura, George... She started to follow Frank, but her father grabbed her wrist. "I don't think that's a good idea." he said gravely.

"I'm sorry." Nancy choked out. She pulled her wrist away and ran into the hall, looking both ways for Frank. She didn't see him anywhere. She grabbed a passing nurse by the sleeve. "Excuse me, did you see-"

"He's in there." the nurse said sympathetically, pointing at a nearby men's room. "Poor dear."

Nancy entered the bathroom without a second thought and heard Frank throwing up into a toilet. He retched violently for a few minutes and then stopped, heartsick and exhausted. She listened quietly as he flushed the toilet but stayed in the stall.

Nancy waited and waited silently for nearly twenty minutes. She couldn't even begin to imagine what she would say to him, how she would explain the things she'd said, how she could justify following him into the men's room... "I'm sorry." she said loudly, her words echoing off the walls of the almost-empty bathroom.

She got no response. "...I didn't mean it." she whispered.

Frank coughed a few times and then opened the stall door, looking pale and drawn, but with a new determination. "Yes you did."

"I didn't." she insisted. "Frank, I would never..." she trailed off weakly. "I was just so angry and scared and worried..."

"You never used to let that stop you." Frank said. "None of us did. When one of us got hurt, we made it our mission to catch the criminal and make them pay. We never just gave up."

Nancy shook her head in protest at the unexpected attack. "I haven't given up. I... I..." she stammered. "What do you want me to do!"

Frank eyed her through red-rimmed eyes. "I don't know what you're going to do. But I'm going to catch the criminal and make him pay."

Nancy thought about it. Would she be able to handle it? "Count me in." she said after a long moment.

Frank nodded, a hint of warmth re-entering his eyes. "Let's do this."

* * *

A/N: Wow, I write a lot of dialogue, don't I? I really don't like this chapter, but it was strangely necessary that I include it... Anyway, make sure to review! Thanks for reading!  



	10. Network Help

Disclaimer: Not mine

A/N: I love my reviewers. Keep reading!

* * *

Nancy watched doubtfully as Frank turned and walked out of the bathroom without another word. How could they solve a case with so much unresolved resentment between them. She hurried to catch up and found Frank back in Joe's room. Everyone turned to stare at her as she went in and she stood self-consciously in front of her family. "I, um... Frank and I are going to-"

Frank cut her off. "I'm going to take her home, she needs to get some rest."

He flashed Nancy a look, and she understood that he didn't want to say they were investigating. "Right." she said tiredly.

George gave the pair an odd stare. Just minutes ago they had hated each other and now he was driving her home? She didn't think so. "Mind if I come?" she voiced.

"No problem." Frank said. He had planned on counting her into the investigation too; her police contacts would probably be useful...

Nancy's father exchanged a knowing glance with Fenton Hardy. "Take care of yourself, honey." Carson said, hugging his daughter.

"Yes, Dad." Nancy said, making towards Joe's bedside, but Frank was already there.

"Hang on, little brother." he said softly. He looked up at his mother. "Call if there's any change?"

Laura nodded. "Any change."

Nancy bent to kiss Joe's forehead before she found herself and George being herded out of the room by Frank. "We've got to hurry." Frank said once they were out in the hall. "Before-"

"Hold it." Came the voice of Fenton Hardy, stepping out of the room, followed by Carson Drew.

The three friends stopped short.

"Be careful." Carson said.

Frank, Nancy, and George turned around.

Fenton laughed softly. "We know you kids, and we know that there's no point in telling you not to investigate the shooting, even though I'm not thrilled about it."

"That's right." Carson spoke up. "I don't have to remind you who you're dealing with. I don't want to see anyone else get hurt. The Assassins are serious trouble."

Frank and Nancy had to smile at how well their fathers knew them. "We know, Dad." Nancy said. "But we have to do this. For Joe and _Frank_. The Assassins didn't get their target this time; you know they'll be back. We can't let that happen."

Frank eyed his father. "We just don't want to worry Mom any more than she already is. She has enough on her plate."

"Don't we all." Fenton sighed.

George cut to the point. "Are you going to tell us to stay out of the investigation?" she asked.

"I don't like it." Carson admitted. "And I'm afraid for you. But I want to say that if you choose to investigate, I'm behind you one hundred percent."

"And we want to help in any way we can." Fenton added.

Nancy realized how hard it was for Carson and Fenton to condone them taking on the Assassins, but she appreciated their decision and gave both her father and father-in-law a quick hug. Frank just gave them a tight smile. "Thanks, Dad. Mr. Drew."

Fenton smiled sadly at his oldest son's impatience. "Okay." he said. "Go get 'em."

"And be careful!" Carson called after them as the three detectives headed for the door.

"So how long before Laura realizes we're going after the Assassins?" George asked as she climbed into the driver seat of her car. Frank got in beside her.

"Not long; I'd give it two days, tops." Nancy said good-naturedly, sliding into the backseat. "Understandably, she's a bit off her game today. She can usually see through any lie; the woman's got eyes like a hawk."

Frank smiled, remembering how hard a time he and Joe had given their mother as kids. "That's probably our fault, Joe's and mine." he said. "We were always tricking her into letting us do something dangerous..."

"And I thought _my _father had a hard time..." Nancy said. "He only had one crazy detective to worry about!"

"Plus me and Bess, who were always tagging after you anyway." George added, smirking.

The three laughed half-heartedly at the banter, but all had other things on their minds.

"Alright, now," George said when they got to Nancy's house. "What's our plan of action?" She had to park on the street because the area around the house was blocked off with police tape.

"Check the yard outside the picture window?" Nancy suggested, looking at the damage to her house sadly.

"You think we'll find anything the CPD hasn't already?" George asked. "I can call whoever's in charge of this case and ask for the details."

"You're forgetting that the Assassins don't usually leave clues." Frank reminded grimly. "Our best bet would be to contact the Network, if you can still do that." He looked at Nancy. "Do you still have the modem?"

Nancy knew he was referring to the only way to contact the Network; since they were such a secret organization, they could not be reached by phone and no one knew where their headquarters were. The only mode of communication was through a special modem that had been provided for them. "Sure." she said. "We still have it. The thing's impossible to get rid of." She recalled how Joe, in the early days after Frank's kidnapping, had gotten frustrated with the Network's lack of ethical assistance and had thrown the modem down the stairs. _The modem was completely unharmed; all there was to show for it was a crack in the tile at the bottom of the steps... What do they make those things out of?_ "I'll get it." she volunteered, stepping under the yellow police tape. By this point in her life, she had no qualms about crossing police barriers.

"Good," Frank said. He followed her into the house, only to see her stop short. The room was exactly as they'd left it; shattered glass and splintered furniture everywhere, the ominous brown bloodstain congealing on the carpet. He stared at the stain, unable to tear his eyes away.

"Oh, Nancy..." George said sympathetically, wrapping her arms around her best friend from behind. "It's going to be okay..."

"What a mess." Nancy commented, brushing back the tears that had sprung to her eyes without warning. She took a deep breath and got herself together. "That couch was ugly anyway."

George grinned, even though Nancy hadn't been trying to joke. Frank just nodded, looking at the ripped-apart couch in question.

"Your mother picked it out." Nancy tossed over her shoulder to Frank as she went up the stairs. George bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Hey!" Frank called after her. "My mother has fine taste in furniture!"

Nancy smiled wanly to herself but didn't respond as she approached her and Joe's bedroom. She turned the door and screamed at the sight of a man sitting on the bed.

Frank, hearing the scream, took the stairs two at a time, George right behind him. "Nan! What's-" He stopped, astonished, at the sight of Nancy talking to none other than his old Network contact, the Gray Man.

"Sorry, Frank." Nancy said. "I wasn't expecting to see Mr. Gray _in my bedroom._" she explained, her tone telling that she was none too pleased to see him at all. She turned back to the Gray Man, arms folded. "You were about to tell me what you want?"

The Gray Man took no notice of the animosity in her tone. "I took the liberty of inviting myself in." he said. "I've been waiting for you to return, Mrs. Hardy. I'm so sorry about Joseph." He turned to Frank and offered his hand to shake. "Frank Hardy. I'm glad to see you alive and well."

Frank shook his hand. "Same to you." he said.

George studied the Network agent. She'd never met him, but Joe and Nancy had told her all about him. His outward appearance was almost aggressively average, making him perfect for blending into any surrounding. His average height, weight, and build was accompanied by brown hair with wisps of gray, dark eyes, and regular features. George knew that Joe and Nancy hated working with the Network because of their disregard for individual human lives, but that they often had to when they needed manpower or contacts they normally wouldn't have access to. She stepped up to introduce herself. "George Fayne, Chicago Police Department."

The Gray Man didn't shake her hand. "Oh, please." he said. "I know who you are."

"Probably has a file on you." Nancy muttered to George. "The Network has an affinity for stalking the friends of their contacts."

"For their own safety." The Gray Man acknowledged. "Now that we've finished with the pleasantries- if they can be called that- why don't we discuss the case at hand here?"

"Can we do this somewhere else?" Nancy asked uncomfortably.

As soon as they relocated to the kitchen, Nancy sat at the table with her friends as they listened to the Gray Man talk. "I assumed you'd be looking for me once you figured out who was behind the attack, so I figured I'd save you the trouble of digging out the modem which Joe so thoughtfully tried to destroy a few years back."

Frank almost smiled at the reference to his brother. He could well imagine Joe becoming that angry; he had never enjoyed working with the Network either.

"Get on with it." Nancy said stonily. "I don't want to hear about your fond memories of Joe right now."

"Okay, okay." The Gray Man said. "You've figured out that the Assassins were trying to kill all of the survivors of the prison raid, and they very nearly succeeded."

"But why kill us?" Frank asked. "We don't know anything that could hurt them. The police don't even know they exist; it's not like we could endanger them."

The Gray Man shrugged. "Just in case. To them, you're loose ends. Better safe than sorry."

"But, won't the police notice something when thirteen of the fourteen newly-found people turn up murdered, and the other one attacked?" George asked incredulously.

"It looks like one already has, _Officer_ Fayne." The Gray Man said dryly. With exasperation, he added. "Of course the police will notice! But they have no knowledge of the Assassins. They have no idea where those men have been for the past few years. The families of the men don't even know that. The Network met with the men to establish a cover story." He glared at Frank. "Which _you_ so kindly ignored, thank you."

Frank shrugged. "You think Nancy or Joe would have believed that pack of lies about... what was the story? A P.O.W. camp or something? No way. Besides, they _saw_ the Assassins take me."

The Gray Man sighed. "The point is, the police have no chance of solving this crime. And I'm assuming you will want to avenge your brother and you'll need Network intel."

Nancy leaned forward on her elbows. "What do you mean by "Network intel"? Do you know where this bozo is?"

"That depends," The Gray Man replied. "On whether you're planning on cooperating with us."

"Hold it." Frank said. "Even if we do catch up to this guy, what will we do? The Network has other operatives. If they want me that badly, they'll send in someone else. You know we can't shut down the entire group."

"We're hoping to, someday." The Gray Man said. "But you're right, it just isn't feasible right now. The Assassins may never stop going after you. Or they may decide you aren't worth it and move on."

"We're in too deep already. What do we have to lose by going after the guy who shot Joe?" George said quietly.

Nancy shrugged. "Just our lives and the lives of our loved ones." she answered bitterly.

Frank looked Nancy and George in the eyes. "You guys don't have to do this. I don't want to make you two targets as well." he said seriously.

"Yeah, right." Nancy scoffed. "This guy is on _my_ hit list."

George said nothing, but her reassuring smile told Frank she thought the same thing.

* * *

A/N: I hope you're enjoying reading this story, because it's certainly a lot of fun to write! Please share your thoughts on the story: _REVIEW!_  



	11. Second Encounter

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Check it out! A new chapter for you guys. Or a testament to the fact that I have no life, your pick. Anyway, R&R, as always!

* * *

The Gray Man cleared his throat. "Now that we've got that all settled, we need to get down to work." He stood up. "We're going to need to head out to the van; this isn't a secure area."

George cocked an eyebrow. "And your _van_ is?" she asked skeptically as the group headed outside.

The Gray Man leveled his gaze at George. "As a matter of fact, yes, it is. Soundproof. Completely bulletproof, of course. Lead-encased to keep radio waves in; even blocks incoming infrared."

"Oh." George was at a loss for words. "So how much of our tax money goes into this?"

The Gray Man's retort was cut off as a car pulled up to the curb and Bess Marvin leaped out, throwing her arms around Nancy. "I just heard... on the news." she gasped. "Joe, how is he?"

Nancy hugged her friend tightly. "He's... not good." she said, fighting back tears once again. She had to smile at the sight of Bess, who looked like she'd just gotten out of bed: nightgown, unbrushed hair and all. "I'm so sorry you had to hear it that way. I should have called."

"I know you had other stuff on your mind." Bess replied forgivingly. She took a step back, noticing Nancy's companions for the first time. She gaped momentarily at the dark-haired young man in front of her. She looked to George and Nancy for confirmation that she wasn't seeing things. "Frank!" she murmured accusingly, catching him up in another hug. "Oh my God. What is going on here!"

"Sorry we didn't tell you sooner, Bess," George started. "But everything's been happening so fast..."

Bess didn't take her eyes off Frank, still unable to believe what she was seeing.

"Bess." Nancy took her friend's shoulders and faced her grimly. "You have to go home. Right now. Don't ask questions."

"That's right." Frank agreed seriously. "The more time you spend with us, the more likely you are to be targeted. Stay out of this."

Forlorn tears pooled in Bess's wide blue eyes. "But I...what? Can't I-" she stammered, hurt and confused.

The Gray Man interrupted impatiently. "Every minute we stand here, in the open, might I add, is time the Assassins are using against us." he reminded harshly. "So, if you'll excuse us, Miss Marvin," -he gestured to her car- "You should be getting home and forgetting you even saw us."

Bess ignored the stranger's words and turned imploringly to her friends. "Nancy, George, whatever is going on, I can help! You know I can!"

George put an arm around her cousin. "Please, Bess, just trust us." she murmured in her ear. "I'll call you as soon as I can, okay?"

"Trust you, huh?" Bess sighed in defeat; she would leave, but she didn't have to like it. Before she got back in her car, she gave Frank one last impulsive hug. "You'd better tell me everything when this is over." she warned. "...whatever it is."

"Everything." Frank confirmed. "Now go, Bess, please."

Bess stood for a moment before sliding into the driver's seat of her car and slowly driving off. Nancy exchanged a guilty glance with George. Pushing her friends out of an important case hurt them, and Nancy didn't like having to do it, but she knew she'd done the right thing; having to worry about Bess right now might push her over the edge. Still, Nancy hoped Bess wasn't too upset.

"Nan!" George called. When Nancy looked up, she realized that Frank and the Gray Man were already in the Network van on the opposite side of the street.

Nancy and George caught up and climbed into the van. Like everything else in the Network, the van was plain and inconspicuous on the outside and hopelessly complicated within. Had Nancy never worked with the Network before, she would have been awed by the technology and weaponry found in the truck.

George was stunned but tried not to show it.It was a little cramped, but still much roomier than one would expect in a van. Glancing around at the blinking lights and colorful wiring, she remarked, "Reminds me of the Batcave." _Except for one thing,_ she thought, looking at the full rack of weapons hanging to one side.

The Gray Man did not look amused as he took a spot in front of a miniature computer screen. "Do you know what this is?" he asked rhetorically. "This one computer allows us to communicate with Network agents worldwide."

"Too bad you don't have a computer that tracks the guy we're looking for." George commented snidely.

"This does as good as the same thing." the Gray Man answered. We have agents in nearly every city on the globe. Once any agent puts out an alert for a man, the agents in other cities keep a lookout."

"What?" Nancy cried. "A _lookout?_ That's all you've got?"

"Not quite." The Gray Man assured. "Network agents have access to a lot of information. They're able to check out the wanted man's known contacts and are even privy to his credit card logs."

Frank shook his head. "Wouldn't a criminal know to use cash? Everyone knows that credit card use can be traced."

"Plus," George added. "Aren't Assassins and other serious criminals likely to have alibis and contacts you don't know about?"

The Gray Man squared his jaw. "While there are flaws in the system, our success rate has been high thus far." he said patiently. "Now I suggest we focus on the specifics of this case."

"Alright." Nancy said. "Where do we start?"

The Gray Man sighed. "As I've said, the Network has this mostly under control. Obviously, the man can't board a plane or cross the border without us knowing. The next Network agent who sees him will simply take care of it."

"I think you're forgetting something." George put in. "We think that this guy will still be after Frank, right? And he'll want to kill him as soon as possible. Wouldn't it make sense for him to hang around here a little longer?"

"That's right." Nancy agreed. "He won't be trying to book a trip just yet."

"Well, the most logical place for him to hide would be Chicago." Frank hypothesized. "It's a major city with a pretty big underground movement. I'll bet he has quite a few friends there."

"Good thinking." the Gray Man replied, tapping a few keystrokes into the computer. "Here we go. We have a list of all known criminal hideouts. Assassins, Mafia... the works."

"You have a list!" George asked incredulously. "If you know where these scumbags are hiding why don't you go in and bust them?"

The Gray Man sent her a scathing look. "Because, my dear Miss Fayne, if they know that we know where they are, they'll find a new headquarters. This way, we can cross-reference our wanted men with their known contacts and figure out where they'll be hiding, then nab them when they come out."

"It makes sense." Frank agreed reluctantly. "Now which one of these places will O' Toole try to contact?"

The Gray Man stroked his chin. "There's only two places in Chicago that are Assassin-controlled. I guess we'll try there first."

Nancy was astounded. "We're just going to follow them to their hideout?" she asked. "Hello? They want to kill us! We'll be walking straight into their clutches!" As much as she wanted to take down the Assassins, she wasn't looking for a death sentence.

Before the Gray Man could reply, however, the truck gave a mighty jolt. The sound of crushing metal filled the air. The truck was hit again from the opposite side. George screamed as the truck tipped onto its side, throwing its passengers to the floor. Broken glass flew everywhere. The truck was being assaulted again and again and Nancy, Frank, George, and the Gray Man were trapped inside!

* * *

A/N: Let's make a deal; _you _review and_ I'll _promise to update ASAP! 


	12. Thrill of the Chase

A/N: Thanks for everyone who reviewed! Here's your chapter:

* * *

Nancy tried her best to disentangle herself from the flailing bodies of her friends and the Gray Man as they tumbled to the ground. "That's them!" she choked as the lights went off in the van. "We have to get out there!" She clawed her way toward the door, trying to avoid the dangling wires from destroyed computers, spitting sparks around them. 

Then she was at the door, but it was too dented to open normally. She banged on it frantically. The Gray Man seized the first gun he touched on the fallen weapons rack, his Browning automatic handgun. "Stand back!" he ordered.

"Wait!" Frank had recovered his balance. "Don't waste your ammunition." Taking aim, he sent a hard kick at the jammed door. It loosened slightly. He rammed it with his shoulder and the door creakily swung open, daylight flooding into the darkened van. They were now able to see their attacker as the car that had been bashing them reversed and sped away. Sure enough, its driver had a curiously boyish face. "O' Toole!"

Nancy and the Gray Man jumped out. "My car!" Nancy shouted, waving her keys. "They can't have gone far!"

Frank went to follow them, but turned back. "George!" he called.

George got up gingerly, pressing her hand to a deep, bleeding cut on her temple. "Sorry." she winced, blinking blood out of her eye.

Frank grabbed her by the arm and the two ran to Nancy's car and dove into the backseat just as Nancy floored the gas petal, taking off in hot pursuit of the Assassin's car. As they turned off of Nancy's street, they spotted O' Toole's vehicle, a large navy-colored ATV. "He can't get away in that!" Nancy exclaimed triumphantly.

"You'd be surprised." The Gray Man said. "You can be sure that's no ordinary clunker. All Assassin cars go fast." Sure enough, O' Toole slowly widened the gap between the two cars.

Frank's attention was divided between the chase and George, whose head had not stopped bleeding. He searched around for some sort of bandage and came up with a handful of tissues. "Here. Are you okay?"

George accepted them gratefully. "Fine." she answered faintly, pressing the tissues to her cut. "Just a scratch."

"He's getting away!" Nancy fairly screamed, pushing the car over the 85 mph mark.

The Gray Man looked around. The nearest car was several yards behind them. Rolling down the passenger-side window, he aimed the handgun at the ATV and took several shots. One buried itself in the trunk, and a second shattered the passenger side mirror, but the Assassin kept going.

"Watch out!" Frank cried, seeing a gun emerge from the driver's window of the ATV. "He's going to shoot!" Nancy and her passengers ducked low in their seats.

Nancy swerved in and out of the lane as bullets whipped past them. "He can't shoot and drive at the same time, can he?"

"Apparently." The Gray Man replied dryly. He snapped off a few more shots, missing the tires once again.

Nancy banged the wheel in frustration. "What kind of secret agent are you!" she exploded. "Could you try to _hit_ the Assassin, please?"

The Gray Man fired his last bullet into O' Toole's taillight. "Out of ammo." he said grimly.

"Wait." George spoke up, offering up her standard police-issue revolver. "We're not done yet."

Frank took it from her. "Here, let me take a shot at it." He leaned out his window, but before he could shoot he heard a shriek from Nancy as the windshield shattered into a million glass pellets.

Reflexively, she eased up on the break, but recovered and floored it again. "I'm insured."

Frank groaned as they passed a sign that welcomed them to Chicago. Once they were in city limits, he would have trouble getting in a shot without hurting innocent bystanders. In a last-ditch effort, he aimed at the back left tire and was rewarded with a loud bang as it ruptured, sending the Assassin swerving madly.

"Yes!" Nancy shouted, but the smile died on her face as O' Toole somehow managed to regain control of his vehicle. They were now inside the city, apartment and office buildings surrounding them on all sides. The sidewalks overflowed with people; it was nine am and everyone was heading for work. O' Toole's car weaved lopsidedly in and out of the rush hour crowd, and Nancy did her best to follow. Suddenly, she lost sight of him. "No!"

"Wait!" George called over the rush of air that assaulted them though the missing front window. "He went into that garage!"

Nancy made a sharp left turn into the parking garage, earning honks and curses from the other drivers on the road. She sped through the barrier as it was descending and ignored the yelling of the man in the ticket booth. Driving up the aisle in the garage, she caught a glimpse of her quarry rounding the next corner. "Hey!" a man screamed after her. "The speed limit here is five!" She was going nearly sixty, tires squawking round the bend.

"Where'd he go?" Frank shouted. The car had disappeared from sight.

A door slammed loudly behind them. "I think I know." The Gray Man said grimly. The ATV had pulled into a parking space and now it was empty. A shot rang out to their right and a bullet glanced off the roof of Nancy's car.

"At least _he's _parked legally." George cracked weakly as Nancy haphazardly found a parking space.

"Everybody out!" Frank shouted, half at the passengers in the car, half at the pedestrians in the garage. The inhabitants of the car jumped out and scattered. "Get down! Stay low!" A bullet whizzed toward him and he ducked, aiming George's revolver in the direction it came from.

Screams came from the other people in the garage. "Be careful! Stay out of the way!" Nancy called to them, earning a bullet from the Assassin, which came within inches of her head.

"Where is he?" George whispered, crouching on the floor next to Frank.

"I don't know." Frank whispered back.

"I'll go this way and you go that way."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Frank asked, seeing the trickle of dried blood running down her face. "Here, take this." He handed her the gun. George nodded and disappeared down the row of cars.

Nancy scuttled through the maze of cars silently. Hearing a noise near her, she stopped breathing, gingerly inching toward the end of the car. Suddenly, she pounced, rolling across the floor and landing on top of the other figure, who twisted around and caught her in a headlock. She growled, realizing that she and the Gray Man had mistakenly attacked each other. "Ow!"

She started to shove him away when the loud click of a cocked gun resounded through the garage. Nancy and the Gray Man froze, looking up to see the boyish Assassin covering them, eyes blazing. "I am looking for Frank Hardy. Tell me where he is and I_ might_ spare you."

"Yeah, right." Nancy spat.

O' Toole waved the gun for emphasis. "I know he's here." he said quietly. "Call out for him. He'll listen to you. Tell him to come here."

"Never." Nancy hissed, pale with anger. "I would never betray my friends."

Frank, hiding nearby, listened to the conversation, waiting for his opening. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Nancy's refusal to give him up meant anything more than friendship for him, but realistically, he knew she would die before giving up anyone, even a stranger. But he certainly wasn't going to allow her to die for him.

"I only need Frank." the Assassin reminded menacingly. "Don't force me to take not only yourselves, but your friends. It would be a shame for Ms. Marvin to die just because you were stubborn." Nancy sat sullenly as O' Toole continued. "And it wouldn't take much to finish the job on your husband."

Nancy eyes narrowed. She didn't need to ask if he was telling the truth.

"Call for Frank." The Assassin commanded, sensing her weakness.

"Frank!" Nancy called, as the Gray Man looked on in surprise. Defiantly, she shouted, "Stay away from here!" her voice echoed through the garage.

Angrily, the Assassin kicked Nancy in the face and she grunted in pain. "Frank Hardy! Are you going to let me kill the woman you love?" he taunted loudly. His words bounced off the walls. '..._the woman you love... the woman you love... you love...'_

Frank gritted his teeth, but stayed where he was. He watched as the Assassin pointed the gun at Nancy. "You have until the count of three to reveal yourself." the Assassin called. "One... two..."

Frank tackled him from behind, throwing him off balance. The Assassin stumbled, but made a quick recovery. "Three." he grinned quietly, having buried the gun in Frank's ribs. Nancy and the Gray Man watched helplessly, too far away to do anything.

Suddenly, a shot rang out. O' Toole screamed as the bullet ripped through his gun hand, causing him to drop it. Frank knocked him to the ground, and Nancy scrambled to pick up his gun and cover him with it. The Gray Man quickly grabbed the Assassin by the jaw, preventing him from breaking the poison capsule hidden in his tooth. The Gray Man scooped the false tooth out of the man's mouth and put it in his pocket for safekeeping. "Nice shot, Miss Fayne." he commented over his shoulder, a bit reluctantly.

"_Officer_ Fayne." George corrected, running down the aisle to her friends.

Nancy hugged her friend. "Great job, George! You're amazing." Then she stood and called to the other people in the garage. "It's okay; it's over. You can come out now, it's safe!" The main exit of the garage was deluged by dozens of frightened people.

George dropped to her knees beside Frank. "Are you okay?" she asked. "I was so worried I'd hit you. That was the hardest shot I've ever had to make!"

"You did great." Frank smiled. "You saved my life. I owe you one." George laughed and hugged him. Frank looked over her shoulder at Nancy. "Nan? Are you okay?" he said, pulling away from George, who looked away quickly.

"Yeah." she said quietly, fingering her jaw were O' Toole had kicked her. "Gonna have a bruise tomorrow though." she felt suddenly uncomfortable, remembering how the Assassin had goaded Frank out of hiding. They were long overdue for a talk.

The Gray Man spoke up. "We need to get this guy into custody." O' Toole was drifting into unconsciousness, clearly in great pain.

"And medical treatment." George added, looking at the Assassin's bloodied arm.

"That's of secondary nature." the Gray Man said dryly.

Nancy nodded emphatically. It almost worried her that she enjoyed seeing the Assassin in pain, but she told herself it was perfectly natural. She looked at Frank, who was watching O' Toole with a steely look in his eye; she could tell he felt the same way. Their eyes met, and she flashed him a look. _Later, _it said. _We need to talk.

* * *

_

A/N: Oh, no, this is not over yet. Coming soon: Nancy and Frank have a talk, and whatever happens to Joe? Review!


	13. Good News

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

Nancy and George sat in a Network building on 8th Street in Chicago. The building looked innocent enough; it was under the cover of being a law office. Looking around on the inside, however, the building reminded the three detectives more of a police station: private offices, briefing rooms, containment cells, and the odd interrogation room, which was where the Gray Man had taken O' Toole.

One of the benefits of being a shady government organization was being able to..._bend_ the rules of the Geneva Convention, which stipulated that there could be no switching off in the middle of questioning prisoners. As it was, the Assassin has been in questioning for nearly nine hours now, and not a word had been squeezed out of him. Once he had regained consciousness and had his wounded hand tended to, he had gone straight into the room with the mirrored walls, followed by he Gray Man, a network-employed psychiatrist, and several other men whose only purpose seemed to be physical intimidation.

Nancy was bored out of her mind. She was incredibly tired but too wired to sleep. She rested her head on George's shoulder and let her mind wander through the events of the past few days. Frank's return, Joe's injury, O' Toole's capture... she hoped the Assassin was getting what was coming to him, because if the Network didn't make him pay Nancy thought she might have to. And Joe... Nancy hadn't heard from the hospital, so she could only assume that his condition was unchanged.

George glanced at her watch. "I'm sorry, Nan, but I have to head down to the station if I'm going to make my shift. I don't want Charlie to have to cover for me again." Nancy lifted her head from her friend's shoulder and George gave her a sad smile. "Give me a call if the guy starts to talk."

Nancy simply nodded as George left the office. She almost made up her mind to call the hospital and check up on Joe, but she wasn't in the mood for any more discouraging news. She decided to see how O' Toole was holding up. Getting up, she walked down the hall and joined Frank in the observation room. The room was small and plain with no furniture save a large table in the middle of the room, but offered a clear view of the interrogation room through a one-way mirror. A speaker allowed observers to hear what was happening in the next room. "Any progress?" she asked Frank, peering through the window.

Frank shook his head grimly. "You know the problem with Assassins: they're conditioned against giving away the group's information. The Gray Man drugged him with some kind of truth serum, but whenever O' Toole even tries to tell something, he can't. It's physically painful for him."

"So?" Nancy said indifferently. She wasn't sparing any pity for the man.

"Well, we don't want him to die." Frank said. "It's so rare to capture a live Assassin."

"He deserves death and more." Nancy said, reaching down to turn the speakers up.

The Gray Man's voice filled the room. "Why did the Assassins send you after Frank Hardy five years ago?" he asked sternly. The Assassin sat in the middle of the room, which was mostly dark with the ever-so-clichéd hanging lightbulb casting a cone of light over the group of people. He saw shaking uncontrollably; had he been anyone else, Nancy would have pitied him.

"My...my superiors wanted revenge on the... Hardy family... for- uuungh." O' Toole tried to finish his sentence and ended up gasping in pain. His brain refused to let him talk about past orders.

Frank turned away from the window. "It's been like that all day." He said, sounding a little frustrated. "Whatever they ask, he can't tell them."

Nancy's brow furrowed. "What have they been asking?"

"Oh, you know, questions about the Assassins, what their plans are..." Frank trailed off, looking at Nancy's hardened expression and red-rimmed eyes that seemed to have become semi-permanent. "Nancy?"

Nancy turned to him. "Hmm?" she murmured absently.

Frank suddenly couldn't phrase what he needed to say. "I... I'm sorry about Joe. If I had known they were after me I never would have gone to you guys, and... no matter how I feel about you, Nan, I would never want anything to happen to Joe. Never. If I could have jumped in front of him when thse bullets hit I would have done it without a second thought, no matter if we were in the middle of a fight... Nothing is worth more to me than my brother... You know that, right?" Frank stopped as his voice cracked painfully.

Nancy wanted to say that the thought had never crossed her mind, but she knew that Frank was being honest with her, and she had to do him the same courtesy. Instead she said, "Of course I do. I shouldn't have doubted it for a second. I... I know Joe wouldn't have... And I know this isn't your fault. Nobody blames you for what happened to Joe. I'm sorry, Frank, for ever making you think it was your fault... I was wrong." She lapsed off into shameful silence, her mind as well as her tearful gaze slowly returning to the Assassin in the window.

Frank felt a little lighter, but he had so much more to talk about with Nancy. He had no idea how to broach the subject, but he had to try. He started tentatively. "I... I know we haven't really gotten a chance to talk since... well, about five years ago... A lot of things have changed since them, but-"

"That's their problem!" Nancy cut him off with her sudden exclamation. She'd only been half-listening, most of her attention was on the interrogation. "They're asking him the wrong things! No wonder he can't talk!" She was mostly talking to herself.

Frank made a feeble attempt to switch topics without feeling too foolish. "Nancy? What are you talking about? Are you even listening?"

Nancy met his eyes for a brief second. "Sorry, Frank, but we'll have to talk later. This is important!" That said, she rushed out of the observation room.

_What I have to say is important too,_ Frank thought, momentarily dejected. After a second of standing alone, his curiosity got the best of him and he followed Nancy out of the room. He caught up with her in the hallway. She was knocking on the door to the interrogation room. "What are you doing?" Frank asked. "Once the door's been shut, you can't go in there until the questioning is over."

"I think I can get him to talk." Nancy said. "Besides, when has the Network ever followed the Geneva Code?"

"Good point." Frank conceded as the heavy door swung open and the Gray Man looked out, bleary-eyed and frustrated. "What is it?" he snapped crossly.

"Don't bite my head off." Nancy said. "But I have some questions I'd like to ask."

"Oh, I suppose _you'll _be able to squeeze something out of him when specialists have been working on him for the past ten hours with nothing to show for it?" the Gray Man said rhetorically.

"You've been asking him questions about the Network this whole time, right?" Nancy asked.

The Gray Man nodded impatiently.

Nancy continued excitedly. "Have you tried questioning him on his own actions, his own motivations, instead of his organization?"

The Gray Man frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The Assassins condition their agents not to give away their secrets," Nancy said. "But how could they condition them against revealing their feelings and motives? They don't always know what their agents are thinking; they can't censor thoughts or the agent would be of no use to them! They'd be brainwashed, unable to think rationally!"

The Gray Man rolled his eyes at her little tirade. "All right, Nancy. Come on in and give it a try. But don't be surprised if you can't get around this guy's mental block. We've given him a truth drug, but he just can't tell us anything." He held the door wide for her to enter, and she approached the prisoner carefully, Frank right behind her.

O' Toole's eyes were glazed, a direct result of the drug, but they lit up with hazy glee as Nancy came into view. "Well, well, well," he slurred jeeringly. "It's the soon-to-be Widow Hardy."

Nancy clenched her fists in anger and felt Frank's hand on her shoulder. "Don't let him mess with you." he whispered in her ear. "He's lashing out because he's scared."

Nancy nodded tautly, but she let her features relax. "Why did you come back to kill Frank yesterday?" she asked suddenly. The Assassin's face twisted into a pained grimace. Nancy mentally kicked herself. "Let me rephrase that. You wanted to do the job yourself instead of having someone else do it, didn't you?"

O' Toole nodded reluctantly. "I did."

"How did you know that?" one of the specialists in the room asked Nancy.

Nancy shrugged. "The other thirteen were killed in their homes in their sleep, but the attempt on Frank's life was at my house, in broad daylight. Different style of killing, different killer. Plus O' Toole was the one who kidnapped him in the first place; it would have been quite a coincidence if he'd been randomly selected to finish the job on Frank."

Frank raised his eyebrows. "Looks like you were right."

Nancy frowned back down at O' Toole. "Why? Why did you want the job for yourself?"

The Assassin struggled with giving away his personal information, but whatever they had drugged him with made argument impossible. "...Pride." he rasped finally. "I... I was the first person in the history of the Assassins to successfully defeat one of the illustrious Hardys... Not counting Iola," he added with a frown. "Although her death was unintentional."

Nancy knew the terrorist spoke of Joe's first serious girlfriend Iola Morton, who had been mistakenly killed in an Assassin car bomb meant for the Hardys. Frank hand tightened on her shoulder. He had known Iola personally, and had seen firsthand the effect her death had had on his brother. He hadn't thought Joe would ever love again, _but... _

"You were too proud to let Frank get away?" Nancy questioned.

"Yes." the prisoner sighed. "I thought if I killed him now it would... undo my mistake...of not killing him before."

"Is that why you decided not to wait for night to do the job?" Nancy asked.

"...Yes." the Assassin mumbled helplessly through clenched teeth. "I wanted him dead... as soon as possible." His thoughts came pouring out of him and he couldn't stop them. "I should not have let my pride... haste... get to me... I should have followed the plan-" All of the sudden, he began writhing in pain, twisting in his chair.

"He's coming too close to the conditioned part of his brain." Frank observed worriedly. "Maybe we should ask him something unrelated to the Assassins."

Nancy blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "What's your favorite color?"

O' Toole gave her a semi-scathing look as he was forced to answer. "Green." But the waves of pain stopped vibrating through his head.

Frank let out a laugh. "That might have been too off-topic." he said, seeing the look of disdain on the Gray Man's face.

Nancy gave a half-smile at the absurdity of her question, but the smile was gone as her cell phone vibrated a second later. The took the phone from her pocket, pausing for just a second. It had to be someone at the hospital: this call could be the one telling her Joe was conscious._ Or that he was dead._ Hand shaking slightly, she answered it. "Hello? Mom." she glanced up at Frank. "Yes, he's here. Now how is-" she stopped suddenly.

Everyone in the room watched her intently, with the exception of O' Toole, who seemed to be having trouble focusing on much of anything. Frank was almost on top of her, straining to hear whatever the caller was saying.

Nancy's face broke into a wide grin. "He's awake! Joe's awake!" she cried. Frank joined her in relieved laughter. "Be right there." she promised into the phone, hanging up. She glanced around the room briefly. "I've got to go." she said, tears of joy clouding her vision. Without waiting for a response, she yanked on the door handle and let herself out, flying down the hallway.

Frank cast a glance at the Gray Man. "Go on." sighed the Network agent. "We can handle things here. And I know you've been just as worried as Nancy." He paused for a second before saying, "Say hi to Joe for me."

Frank grinned. "Will do." he said, backing towards the door. "Thank you." he exited calmly, but the Network agents could hear his running footsteps in the hall in hot pursuit of Nancy.

When he got down to the street he was surprised to see Nancy pull up to the curb in her bullet-battered car. "Need a lift?" she called with a smirk.

Frank climbed into the passenger seat and buckled his belt as the car shot off towards River Heights Hospital. The rush of air blowing through the missing windshield not only made their eyes sting and their hair whip about, but it rendered conversation nearly impossible. Neither Frank nor Nancy said a word until the car pulled to a stop in the hospital parking lot.

"Wow..." Frank said as he got out of the car, wiping his eyes. "We need to get that window fixed ASAP. I'm surprised you didn't get pulled over!"

"Just lucky, I guess." Nancy shrugged, brushing glass pellets out of her clothes as she headed for the entrance. "I'll be finding these glass beads everywhere for the next few weeks."

As the pair headed for Joe's room in the ICU, Frank commented, "I was surprised you waited for me outside of the Network building. I figured you'd be long gone by the time I got out."

Nancy smiled softly. "I know Joe means at least as much to you as he does to me." she said. _Even if you don't always show it, _she added silently, _it's true._

They stopped in front of Joe's room and saw Carson Drew waving to them from down the hall. "Nancy, Frank!" He came up to them and hugged his daughter. "Joe's been moved out of intensive care." he told them. "He's been asking for you."

"He has?" Nancy felt weak with happiness that Joe was doing so well.

Carson nodded. "Both of you." He led them down to another room. Fenton and Laura were just coming out.

"How is he doing?" Nancy asked them.

"He feels horrible." Fenton chuckled. "But he'll never admit it."

"That's our Joe." Frank and Nancy said together. They looked at each other in surprise. Their parents took turns exchanging glances as they moved off down the hall.

Nancy shrugged it off and said seriously. "Frank, why don't you go on in first?"

Frank was tempted, but as much as it pained him, he knew she needed to see Joe first. He had lost his position as the most important person in Joe's life, and Nancy had gained it. "No." he said. "You go first. He needs to see you."

Nancy frowned and took his hand. "We can both go in." she suggested.

Frank pulled his hand back. "I think you guys need to be alone. I'll give you a few minutes." He walked away toward his parents, leaving Nancy standing in front of Joe's door alone.

Taking a deep breath for composure and quickly drying her tears with her hand, Nancy entered Joe's room.

* * *

A/N: So I lied: Frank and Nancy don't have their heart-to-heart just yet (well, they do have just a small one, but there's more), and Joe wasn't _technically_ in the chapter (although you know how he is, at least). But he will most definitely be in the next one. Reviews, please: this was a long one. Tell me what you think! 


	14. Dangerous Business

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't bother suing.

A/N: This chapter is for my fabulous reviewers. Thanks so much for reading and keep up the reviews!

* * *

"Your brother is a very lucky man." Joe's doctor, Allison Laurence, told Frank. "Most comas last much longer than the 28 hours that his did. If he hadn't been in such good physical shape his body would have shut down completely. He might not have survived. And three bullets from an assault rifle... the trauma alone would have killed many people." the petite brunette doctor shook her head. "It's nothing short of a miracle."

"You have no idea." Frank told her. "This whole past forty-eight hours has been one long, painful miracle."

The doctor laughed. "At least it had a happy ending." she offered before she excused herself and went off.

_A happy ending for who?_ Frank wondered.

* * *

Nancy's breath caught in her throat as she peered into Joe's hospital room. She'd thought, no matter how many times he got hurt, she would never get used to seeing her vivacious husband in a hospital- he seemed so out of place. But today, lying in the bed, so pale and weak, and with bandages wrapped around his chest, he seemed exactly in place, and that scared her. She stepped inside and turned to shut the door quietly behind her, not wanting to wake him. When she turned back to him, his eyes were open, shining bright blue against his pale skin.

"Nancy." he rasped, his voice scratchy but alert.

Nancy fought back a sob as she walked to his bedside and knelt on the floor next to him. "Joe." she choked. "Oh... thank god."

Joe gave her a half-smile. "Don't ever get shot. It hurts a lot."

Nancy gave a watery laugh; he wouldn't be Joe if he didn't try to play the comedian. "I'm sorry." she said, picking up his hand and squeezing it.

"For what?" Joe asked. "For not kissing me when you came in?"

Nancy didn't bother with laughter. She leaned in and cupped his face in her hand, pressing her lips to his urgently. The kiss was long and deep and when Joe finally pulled away there was new pain in his eyes. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

Nancy leaned back, trying to catch her breath. "I am now." she answered. She recaptured his hand in her own. "And why are you asking how I am? I should be asking about you! Oh, Joe, I was so worried."

Joe nodded. "I'm not great, but I'll live." His father was right, Joe would never admit how much pain he was feeling. "I'm sorry you had to worry... If our roles were reversed, I'd have been frantic."

Nancy shook her head. "Don't think about it too much." she advised.

Joe nodded and took a deep breath, grimacing painfully as his bandages shifted. "How is Frank?"

"He's... okay." Nancy said uncertainly. "At first he felt bad about what happened to you, but- oh, did anyone ever tell you what happened?"

Joe nodded. "Dad did. When Mom left to call you. The Assassins. Frank is blaming himself, isn't he?"

"I think he realized it wasn't his fault." Nancy said. "Eventually."

Joe bit his lip. "He loves you, you know. That's what he told me right before I was shot."

"I know." Nancy whispered. "What are you saying?"

Joe shrugged. "I don't know."

Nancy opened her mouth to reply when a soft knock sounded on the door. "Come on in." she called.

Frank stuck his head into the room. "Mind if I join you?" he asked softly, feeling left out of so many things and hating himself for it.

"Frank!" Joe croaked, his voice still hoarse. "I missed you, bro."

Frank smiled, eyes lighting up. "I missed you too, little brother."

Nancy met Joe's eyes and stood up to let them know she was going to leave them alone. Joe nodded, pressing her hand to his cracked lips. Nancy's stomach twisted pleasantly at the gesture, and she suddenly realized, without a doubt, that Joe was the one for her. "Thanks." she murmured to Frank on the way past. Frank nodded in response.

Frank took the spot Nancy had vacated. "How are you feeling, Joe?"

Joe rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. "Why is it whenever you come out of a coma, everyone suddenly wants to know how you feel? The answer, obviously, is that I feel like three bullets recently entered my torso at high speeds." He fingered the bandages, trying not to let the awkwardness show.

Frank smiled at his brother's attitude. "So I guess you don't want to talk about your health. Would you be more interested in hearing about the capture of the guy that shot you?"

"You got him? No way!" Joe exclaimed, sitting up reflexively and regretting it. Moaning, he eased himself back down. "Really? Who was it? Is he alive?"

Frank chuckled. His brother had always had more interest in the action than anything else. "He's alive, all right. And it gets even better; it's that creep O' Toole who kidnapped me in the first place."

"The one that looks like a kid?" Joe was enthralled, his pain forgotten. "How'd you find him?"

"Well, the Gray Man was getting all set to check all the underground hideouts in Chicago separately..."

"The Gray Man! Aw, man, I guess we had to involve the Network, huh?"

"Yeah, but while we were checking out the inside of his truck, we started getting rammed..." It got easier and easier to talk to Joe, Frank thought as he filled Joe in on the events of the past day, from the shoot-out at the garage to O' Toole's favorite color being green. It was nice to spend some time just being brothers, without the underlying romantic entanglement surfacing at all.

* * *

They were interrupted fifteen minutes later when the Gray Man entered, Nancy and Fenton right behind him. "Bad news, Frank." The Gray Man said grimly. As if just noticing Joe, he added. "Joseph, how nice to see you alive and well."

"Well, yes, I _am _the epitome of 'alive and well'." Joe muttered sarcastically.

"Bad news?" Frank asked. "What is it?"

"The Assassins have a hit on you." The Gray Man told him.

"Still?" Frank groaned.

"Again." Nancy corrected.

"How do you know?" Joe asked before lapsing into a coughing fit. Nancy hurried to sit on the bed next to him and helped him take a drink.

"We have an undercover operative in the organization." The Gray Man said. "All he knows is that the Assassins still want Frank. They've sent out someone else to finish you."

"Nice guys." Frank said softly. "So what are we going to do?"

Nancy looked up from Joe. "Protective custody for you, Frank."

"What!" Frank said, swiveling toward her. "No way! I'm not going to run."

"I'm agreeing with Nancy on this one." The Gray Man put in.

The way Frank was looking at her made Nancy feel like a traitor. "I'm sorry, Frank, but I just think you should keep safe until this is over." she pleaded under his pained gaze.

"I'm not going to just sit out." Frank asserted, glaring at her. "I can take care of myself."

"I'm afraid it's already settled, Frank." The Gray Man told him. "We've located a secure area for you to stay until such time as it is safe for you to come out."

"What about my mom and Nancy?" Joe rasped. "You know full well that the Assassins would have no problem with using Frank's loved ones to lure him out."

The Gray Man nodded at him. "Of course, your mother will go to the safehouse with Frank. You need to stay here, obviously, and we've authorized your father and several of our agents to stay with you for your own safety. As for Nancy, however... we'd counted on her help on the investigation."

"No." The proclamation came from all three Hardy men at once.

Nancy shot a defensive look at Fenton, Frank, and Joe, all of whom looked back adamantly. "I want to do this." she said. "I have to."

"Nancy," Fenton said. "I realize you have a bone to pick, - we all do - but you need to leave this one to the experts. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know, but..." she looked to Frank for support.

"Are you kidding?" Frank joked gently. "After you just got _me_ grounded?" It was clear, though, that he agreed with his father.

Joe picked up her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, causing her to glance down at the troubled look on his pale face. "Please, Nan. For me."

Nancy's resolve weakened, and she almost cracked. She would jump off a bridge if Joe asked her to, but she didn't think she could let this go. "No." she said loudly. "They need me. I'm not going to hide any more than you want to."

The Gray Man nodded. "Her mind is made up." Nancy nodded quickly, ignoring the pressure Joe was putting on her hand.

"Come on, Nancy." Frank said rationally. "You just got shot in the thigh. You can't possibly-"

"You were shot!" Joe exclaimed. He felt terrible for not noticing the slight limp she had acquired.

Nancy frowned at Frank, then down at her leg where the bandages made a slight bulge under the fabric of her jeans. "I've barely noticed it at all." She turned to Joe. "It's only a scratch."

Frank shook his head. "You're lying. It hurts."

There was a soft knock and George entered the room. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." she said, looking around. "I came as soon as I heard what happened. Good to see you awake, Joe. We were pretty worried."

Joe smiled weakly at her, then turned back to Nancy. "Nancy..." he warned.

Nancy squeezed his hand. "I'll be fine."

"Ah, George, I'm glad you're here." The Gray Man said. "There's another hitman out for Frank, and I figured you'd want in on the case."

"You bet I would." George answered.

"Now hold on one minute. This is dangerous business." Frank's eyes flashed, and for a second George thought she saw some deeper emotion behind them, but it disappeared before she could be sure.

George smiled genuinely. "I'm a police officer. I work in Chicago. I grew up with Nancy Drew. Dangerous business is my business." she assured him. Turning to the Gray Man, she gestured to herself and Nancy. "Where do we start?" she asked gamely.

The Gray Man had no time to answer before a breathless Bess burst into the room. "Don't forget me... I want to help too." she panted.

* * *

A/N: And Bess makes her return! Hope you liked this chapter. Make sure to review, I really value any comments you can give me! 


	15. Race Against Time

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

No one said anything for about thirty seconds as they watched Bess catch her breath. 

"What are you doing here, Bess?" George said finally.

Bess straightened up, looking fairly comical with her messy hairdo and earnest expression. "I came to visit Joe." she said. "And... to help."

Nancy smiled gently at her friend. _I should have known Bess wouldn't stay out of the way if she could help it,_ she thought wryly. "Bess, were you listening in?"

Bess blushed. "Just for a minute. I heard you say that there's an Assassin after Frank and you and George are going to go after him."

The Gray Man shook his head. "Oh, no you don't. I don't want any more civilians in on this operation."

"You didn't seem to mind when the civilian was Nancy." Joe protested hoarsely.

"Shouldn't you be resting?" the Gray Man sniped levelly. Turning to Bess, he said, "Ms. Marvin, I'm going to have to ask you to go straight home and not reveal anything you have heard today. Otherwise we may have to book you with obstructing a federal investigation."

Neither Joe nor Bess looked very pleased with him.

"What if Bess just stays in the hospital with Joe and Fenton?" George suggested. All three of the aforementioned shot her a dirty look. "Okay, okay, just throwing it out there..."

The Gray Man was getting fed up with all of the who's-going-where-with-whom talk. "Fenton, Joe, a few of our agents have been stationed outside the room. I don't anticipate any problems, but if you have any they will contact me. Frank, Nancy, George, you're coming with me. Ms. Marvin, _please go home._" he finished with such a sinister tone that Bess shrank away from him.

Nancy looked at her friend sympathetically and reached out to give her hand a squeeze. "It's for the best, Bess, I promise." she reassured her. Turning to her husband, she looked him in the eyes. "_I will see you later._" she said deliberately. Lastly, she swept down to brush her lips past his.

Joe frowned. "I love you, Nan."

"She loves you too." the Gray Man snapped irritably. "Now, if it's not too much trouble, could we _please_ get Frank to a place where he will be less likely to die?" Taking Nancy's arm, he led her out of the room, although she did manage to turn around long enough to shoot a wink at Joe.

Frank and George caught up with them in the hall, where the Gray Man was making arrangements with another man for Frank and his mother to be taken to the secure facility. Frank didn't know any of the other Network agents well enough to be able to pick them out in the hospital setting, but if they were all as inconspicuous as the Gray Man, they could be any of the "nurses," "patients," or other assorted people roaming the corridors. The Gray Man beckoned them over. "Frank, Laura, Carson. Agent Schuler will take you to the safehouse. It's not terribly far from here, maybe an hour, and that's all I can say while we're out in public, so off you go." He nodded to Agent Schuler who led Laura and Carson towards the door. Frank himself hung back, looking at the girls guiltily.

"Go ahead." Nancy told him. "We'll take care of it."

George gave him a soft smile. "We'll be okay." she said. "You just worry about keeping yourself safe."

Reluctantly, Frank gave a nod. "Be careful. George. Nancy." His eyes lingered on Nancy for just a moment as he followed his mother and Carson. It was completely against his nature to leave the girls and Joe while he hid someplace safe, but he knew that not only was it the wisest thing to do, it was the safest, assuming that the Assassins really did order a hit on him... And as he got in Agent Schuler's ordinary-looking car and sped away from the hospital, he looked out the window and kept close track of where he was being taken.

* * *

Nancy and George sat in a conference room in the Chicago branch of the Network's headquarters, feeling ill at ease amongst the ten or twelve strange agents sitting around the table. "The problem," the Gray Man explained from the head of the table, "Is that we have no way of locating the Assassin that's after Frank. Now that Frank is in hiding, where will the Assassin strike? There's simply no way to know. Our only choice is to go back to the first plan: checking out known Chicago criminal hideouts." 

"So why hide Frank away?" one of the unfamiliar agents spoke up. "Wouldn't it be better to leave the guy in the open and wait till the Assassin makes a move, then arrest him?"

George narrowed her eyes at the agent who had spoken. "So, effectively, what you're suggesting is that we use Frank for bait... which sounds to me like a good way to get him killed."

The agent shook his head somberly. "Risking the life of one man to bring down a killer isn't unheard of in this business. We need to do what is best for the people, and that means taking down as many Assassins as we can lay hands on, no matter the cost."

George's mouth dropped open. "You seem to be forgetting that an individual life is a pretty high price!" she sputtered. "It's human sacrifice, that's what it is!"

The Gray Man sent a scathing look George's way. "Miss Fayne, if you have a problem with the way we operate, perhaps you'd care to stay here while Network personnel handles the situation?"

George frowned sullenly, but before she could retort Nancy had started up in defense of her friend. "Yes, Gray, we _do_ have a problem with the way you operate. We think it's stupid to investigate every lowlife hangout in the city when we don't even know what we're looking for. We think it's abhorrent that you would even _consider_ purposely endangering Frank in order to catch one criminal."

The Gray Man squared his jaw. "Ms. Hardy, I would like to remind you that you are not a part of this organization and it would be very easy to leave you on the sidelines while our agents take care of this problem." His threatening tone made it clear he would not hesitate to leave them behind.

Nancy thought fast, looking for an angle. "Searching blindly won't help us at all in this case." She said in frustration. "What about me? If we need bait why not use me? I've been in this case from the beginning. I'm close to Joe and Frank."

One of the other female agents gave her a look. "Are you bipolar? One minute you're going on about how horrible it is for us to use people to lure out the terrorists and now you're offering to be the bait!"

"Are you kidding, Nancy?" George asked incredulously. "What makes you think the Network would help you out if you got into trouble baiting the terrorists? As long as they got their man, they wouldn't care what happened to you, remember? Frank and Joe would kill me if I let you do something like this!"

The Gray Man watched the exchange curiously. "Nancy, maybe it would be best if you stayed here. You with her, Ms. Fayne; she's obviously not in her right mind at the moment." he shot a pseudo-sympathetic glance Nancy's way. "It's alright- after all, it's been a long few days to go without sleep. Exhaustion gets us all sometimes."

Nancy opened her mouth to protest but George's hand on her arm stopped her. "Don't say anything you'll regret." she hissed at Nancy.

Nancy pursed her lips and the dark circles under her eyes stood out all the more clearly, but she said nothing.

The female agent gave her a smug look. "Well, then, I guess that's settled. Let's go, team."

"Don't try to follow us." the Gray Man added as a warning to George and Nancy as he led his agents out.

George glared at the agents as they passed her, heading for the exit. Nancy slumped onto the table, burying her head in her arms. "I'm so sorry, George." she moaned. "I don't know what got into me... I just want to get this over with, I suppose..."

George sat next to her and stroked her hair back comfortingly. "Don't apologize, Nan. Everyone breaks down once in a while... Besides, you don't think the Network will catch the Assassin using THAT method, do you? I'm betting we'll get another crack at it..."

* * *

Frank ran a hand through his dark hair as he paced back and forth through the plain gray room in the safe house. His mother and Carson Drew were sitting nearby conversing, and every now and then he would notice them watching him. 

"Frank." Carson called, finally motioning him over. "I think you should calm down. Nancy and George are two very capable young women and I know they can take care of themselves."

Frank pulled up a chair and sat on it backwards. "I know they can, too." he said. "It's just that... something's not right. Why would the Assassins want me so badly that they'd send out a second hitman for me? I don't know anything!"

Laura shivered. "I was under the impression that they wanted you because you're a Hardy. Isn't that what O' Toole said?"

Frank knew his mother was trying to stay strong. He took her hand and she squeezed it gratefully, her tight grip betraying her anxiety. "Yes, but O' Toole said he wanted me on a matter of his own pride. The Assassins wouldn't risk losing another operative to the Network just to avenge one man's foolish pride!"

"Maybe _not_ to avenge it." Carson mused thoughtfully, nodding at Frank. "Maybe there's something else that they want from the Network."

"Are you saying that the hunt for Frank could just be a distraction while the Assassins get something else they want?" Laura asked warily.

Frank met Carson's gaze, then his mother's. "Could be." he admitted. "But there are plenty of things they could want from the Network: information, technology..." he trailed off, his mind speeding ahead of him. "...O' Toole!" he cried, leaping up. "O' Toole's the loose end! The Assassins don't want him talking; they'll have to rescue him before the Network squeezes anything valuable out of him!"

Carson stood up too. "You may be right." he said gravely. "But what can we do from here?"

Before Frank could answer, Agent Schuler, the man who'd brought them to the safe house, entered the room. "I heard from the Gray Man." he announced. "And it's good news for you folks. Your friends Nancy and George were taken off the case. Apparently Nancy's in the middle of a mental breakdown or something."

Carson stepped forward worriedly. "Is she alright?" he asked.

Agent Schuler nodded. "She's just a little out of it, from what I hear." he said. "She and George are staying at the HQ, but we've got the rest of our available people out looking for the Assassin."

"The rest of your available people?" Laura repeated.

Schuler smiled reassuringly. "Yes, ma'am. We had to keep a few of our security people in the Chicago building, but we're doing the best we can."

Frank suddenly realized what was happening. _The Assassin would break into the Network headquarters and rescue O' Toole while its personnel was out looking for Frank's hitman. _A second, more sickening thought hit him:_ Nancy and George were in that building; that put them in danger. _

From the expressions on their faces, Laura and Carson had evidently reached the same conclusion. "Can the Assassins find the Network building?" Laura asked fearfully.

Agent Schuler shrugged. "I'd like to think not, but I guess it's possible. After all, we've gotten a hold of more than one Assassin hideout in the past."

Carson and Frank exchanged a glance. "Listen," Frank said urgently. "I think the Assassins are going to raid the Network building and try to get O' Toole back. We have to get back there immediately."

The Network agent frowned. "Sorry, no can do. I've got direct orders from Gray not to let you go anywhere until this is over. Also to lock you up if it looks like you're planning on starting trouble. Looks like he knows you better than I thought."

"No," Carson interjected. "By not listening to us, you're endangering the security of your base, the safety of your prisoner, and the lives of any of your agents that are in the building, as well as my daughter and her friend. If you're smart, you'll hear us out. Call the Gray Man now."

Schuler looked uncomfortable now. "I'm sorry, I wish I could. I can't call him though. This is a safe house; we can't make outgoing calls. Any unsecured line could give us away and endanger the hundreds of people hiding out here. I'm afraid I can't do anything until the Gray Man calls back. I'm not even authorized to send out any agents to help; Gray's my boss."

"And you won't let us out?" Frank asked again, glancing at his mother and Carson, who gave a slight nod back.

Agent Schuler leveled him a look. "Again, I'm sorry, but I can't. Do I need to worry about you trying to escape? Do I have to get you locked up? Because I'd really rather no-" his words were cut off sharply as Carson, at a pleading look from Frank, hit the Network agent from behind, causing him to lose his balance.

Before Frank could move in to finish him off, Agent Schuler yanked his gun out of his holster and trained it on Frank. "Don't mo-" he was again cut off as Laura angrily kicked at his hand without warning, sending the gun flying.

Seeing his opening, Frank dove down and captured Schuler's throat with his hand, gently squeezing the pressure points. "Sorry about this." he whispered regretfully as the agent lolled into his lap, unconscious. Lowering the man's head to the ground, Frank stood up. "Nice work..." he faced Laura and Carson. "But right now we need to get out of here." Bending down again, he scooped a set of keys from Schuler's pocket, hoping to find the key to the car they had come in. "A-ha." Carson and Laura stood by the door anxiously as Frank hurried back to grab the revolver where it had fallen on the floor. Tucking the gun into his waistband, Frank noticed the look on his mother's face. "Don't worry, Mom." he assured her. "We probably won't have to use it."

Carson ushered Laura and Frank towards the door. "We'd better get out of here." Frank agreed and they had little trouble getting out of the complex and into Schuler's car.

"I don't even know where we are." Laura admitted timidly.

"I do." Frank said, leaping into the driver's seat and starting the car. Slamming into reverse, he floored the gas and sent them reeling out onto the street, tires screaming. Spinning the wheel all the way around, Frank pushed the car forward.

Laura and Carson, not being prepared for such a rough ride, were sprawled across the seat. "Frank!" Laura breathed. "Slow down! Be careful! You'll get us all killed!"

Frank smiled tightly, reminding himself that there was a reason his mother so rarely accompanied him on high-speed car chases. "Sorry." he replied, "But George and Nancy could be in trouble right now. We've got a long ways to go. Hold on tight!"

* * *

A/N: Review time! Make me feel important: tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, whatever, but leave a review and stay tuned for the exciting climax!

* * *


	16. Assassination

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Keep it up!

* * *

George wandered the eerily empty corridors of the Network headquarters uneasily. Feeling the restless urge to explore while she was here, she'd left Nancy asleep in the conference room while she took a look around. She didn't think Nancy would mind; poor Nan was completely burned out, not that George could blame her...

_Where is everybody?_ she wondered, entering the entrance lobby. Normally there was a receptionist at the front desk, mainly to redirect people who stumbled in looking for a real law office, but today there was no one. The sign on the door had been flipped to the "closed" side.

Suddenly George realized that the other agents were out on a manhunt; she had basically been left to her own devices. Turning to leave the room, however, something caught her eye. A knot of dread formed in her stomach as she peered _behind_ the front desk. To her dismay, she found the receptionist spreadeagled on the ground, unconscious.

Glancing around for an attacker, George leapt over the desk and landed on the ground beside the male receptionist, grabbing his wrist and feeling for a pulse. Just as she found it, however, she heard a sound that made her blood run cold: a voice she knew as well as her own. And it was screaming her name.

Fear gripped at George as she realized her friend needed help. "Nancy!"

* * *

Laura Hardy gasped involuntarily and clutched the front seat as her son took a particularly sharp corner without slowing. "Frank Hardy!" she admonished. "We will be of no help to anyone if you crash! And this is the city! Look at all the people around! You're sure to hit somebody!"

Frank's eyes didn't leave the road. It was true that they were now in Chicago and the streets were filled with pedestrians. Thanks to his speedy driving they had shaved almost twenty minutes off the hour-long ride, and they were fast approaching the Network building. His jaw tightened even more, if it were possible. _We're no help to anyone if we crash, _he thought wryly, _but if we don't get there in time, it won't matter that we didn't!_

He was so focused on the street that the little red car tailing his went completely unnoticed.

* * *

George crouched below the desk, trying to keep her breathing steady. She tried to assess her situation. _Let's see, _she thought. _I'm alone in a strange building. The only people I know to be here are the security guard, who's out cold, and Nancy... captured? _Automatically she reached for the holster at her waist. _What do I have? A police radio, a whistle, my gun. _

Gripping the gun, she started to inch her way around the desk towards the area Nancy's cry had come from.

* * *

Frank couldn't believe his luck at finding a parking space so close to the Network building. Not having the patience to parallel park, he swung haphazardly into the space and pulled to a stop. Yanking on the emergency brake in his haste, he groaned as the pole came off in his hand. "Nice car, Schuler." he mumbled, bailing out of the car and tossing the brake to the ground.

Carson and Laura made to follow him, but were stopped by a gesture from Frank. "Mom, Mr. Drew: call Dad at the hospital and get those Network agents over here. We need reinforcements and you'll need to fill them in. And could you straighten out the car? We're way over the line."

Despite the tense situation, Laura and Carson had to smile at Frank's order. "Be careful, honey." Laura called as her son headed towards the headquarters.

"Are you sure you don't want me with you?" Carson asked.

Frank gave a tight smile over his shoulder. "Mr. Drew, I think this might be something I need to do on my own." Carson nodded and decided to take the statement at face value rather than as an implication that he would be of no help.

Taking a deep breath, Frank faced the entrance to the building. The "closed" sign was showing, but to his surprise, the door swung open easily when he pulled it. He entered he lobby cautiously, staying out of sight as the famous Frank Hardy rationality came back to him. Listening closely, he heard a soft rustle from behind the desk. He made his way over, trying to stay covered. He knew it was dangerous to take on a possibly-armed assailant, but what else could he do? Trying to keep his breathing quiet, he approached the desk.

"AAH!" Frank let out a surprised cry as George leapt out from behind the desk, training her gun on him. When she realized who it was, she lowered the weapon quickly and launched herself into his arms.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered. "How did you... Frank, Nancy's in trouble."

Frank's arms closed around her just as she went to pull away. "The Assassins?" he asked. His heart sank. He had been right. _And they had Nancy._ "All right, what happened?" he heard himself say.

George shook his arms off, pulling herself together. "The Assassins?" she whispered fearfully. "But what are they doing here?"

"They want O' Toole." Frank told her. "Is Nancy-" he was stopped by the sound of heavy footsteps coming their way. Grabbing George by the arm, he rushed toward the safety of the desk, but it was too late. Just as they dived behind it a hail of bullets sprayed the room around them. They had been seen. As far as Frank could tell, there was only one shooter, but he definitely had superior firepower. "We can't beat him." he whispered tersely to George. "We'll have to run."

"Gladly." George breathed. Nodding her head, she gestured at the rolling desk chair beside her. "I'll push it this way, we run that way." She pointed to a doorway not too far along the wall.

Frank nodded. "Good plan." He watched tensely as George pushed the rolling chair from behind the desk with all her strength, sending it reeling across the room. The Assassin turned his gun on the chair for just a second, and George and Frank used the distraction to make for the door. They reached it and kept running down the hall, the shooter right behind them. "This way!" Frank cried, grabbing George's hand and yanking her out of the corridor and into a stairwell.

George matched Frank's pace exactly as they took the stairs two at a time, well aware of the heavy footfalls of their pursuer hot on their heels. At the top of the stairs, they were lost for a moment as to which way to go. Praying their momentary pause wouldn't give the shooter the advantage he needed, George pulled on Frank's hand, leading him to the doorway of an empty office. Seizing the doorknob, she tried to wrench it open. "It's locked!" she cried in a panicked whisper.

"Shh!" Frank whispered, flattening his body against George's in an effort to remain unseen. They could hear the shooter emerging from the stairway and hoped that the narrow ledge that framed the doorway would be enough to shield them from view.

George held her breath as she and Frank listened, completely motionless. After what seemed like hours, they heard footsteps going away from them. After waiting a moment to make sure the coast was really clear, they tumbled from the doorway, gasping and laughing with relief. "Come on!" Frank gestured. They were in the hallway that led directly to the cell O' Toole was being held in.

George nodded, trying to recover from the combination of the sudden rush of adrenaline and the feel of Frank's body against hers. Allowing him to take her hand, she followed him to the containment cell. To her surprise, she could see O' Toole sitting groggily behind bars in the classic prison-style cell. Apparently his rescuers had not gotten here yet.

"They'll be here." Frank muttered, as if reading her thoughts. More to himself, he noted, "He probably doesn't even know he's being rescued. Look at him, he's still completely out of it from the drugs."

George was about to reply when a doorknob clicked open at the end of the hall. She and Frank quickly ducked out of sight around a corner as two more Assassins entered, one of them forcing Nancy ahead of him at gunpoint. Nancy looked a little dizzy, obviously due to the large bleeding gash along the side of her head. George felt Frank tense up beside her. Looking more closely, she noticed that one of the Assassins was the same man she and Frank had just escaped from.

The Assassins were by now studying the lock on the cell door. O' Toole stumbled over and leaned on the bars. "Watch out behind you." he mumbled.

George and Frank froze. O' Toole had seen them hide! The Assassins turned towards their hiding spot and advanced, weapons drawn.

Suddenly, Nancy flung herself to the floor, screaming loudly enough to provide the distraction George needed to peek into the hall and fire a shot at one of the Assassins. Crying out, the Assassin hit the ground, clasping a wounded shoulder and sending his gun skittering across the floor.

The other Assassin was torn between covering Nancy with his gun and aiming for George. Deciding to take out the only other person with a gun, he trained his gun on George's hiding spot, ready to shoot if she so much as poked her head around. From her sprawled position on the floor, Nancy kicked the armed Assassin in the back of the knee, hard. He didn't go down, instead, opting to turn on her and shoot her while he had the opportunity.

Drawing a bead on a helpless Nancy, the Assassin was suddenly knocked off-balance by a flying tackle from Frank Hardy. He grunted as the three of them went down in a heap, fists flying.

George, meanwhile, concentrated on the wounded man. Keeping her gun aimed at him, she advanced slowly. "Get up." she said. "And tell your buddy to do the same."

The Assassin did as he was told, standing and backing against the wall. "It won't matter what I tell him." he said truthfully. "We have to go down fighting!" At the end of his last word he lunged at George in a move so unexpected that she didn't fire. Wrapping his bloody, but still strong, arm around her neck, he grabbed her gun hand with his other, twisting her wrist so painfully she had no choice but to drop it. Catching it before it hit the ground, the Assassin pressed the barrel to her temple. "Alright!" he shouted. "I've got the girl, and you don't want her to get hurt!"

Frank and Nancy stopped struggling as the other Assassin collected his gun and lined them up against the wall. The wounded man pushed George toward them and she stumbled, but Nancy and Frank caught her, supporting her while she regained her balance.

The wounded Assassin turned to his partner and growled, "Let's finish them quick, grab O' Toole and get out of here."

The first Assassin nodded, grinning evilly as he leveled his gun first at Nancy. "Say goodb-"

A whistle blew somewhere in the building, loud and shrill.

"We know you're in there!" a loud voice boomed. "This is the police. We have you surrounded. Come out now with your hands in the air."

Nancy, Frank, and George exchanged confused glances. That voice sounded like... "Dad?" Nancy murmured under her breath.

"The police!" The Assassins glanced at each other, and then, with an affirmative nod, slowly began backing out of the room, guns still trained on the detectives.

"Wait!" O' Toole shouted. For the first time since his capture, his eyes were glassy and alert. The first Assassin faced him and gave him a single nod. O' Toole nodded back.

The three friends watched, horrified, as the first Assassin aimed a shot at O' Toole, hitting him in the head. They averted their eyes quickly as the body convulsed and slumped to the floor. He was dead before he hit the ground. George fought her gag reflexes; it was the most horrible thing she had ever seen.

The Assassin who had shot him tightened his jaw, looking almost regretful, and backed out of the room.

The wounded Assassin smiled a bitter smirk at the three captives and aimed his gun for Nancy once more when out of nowhere flew a thin metal pole, crashing onto his head. The Assassin groaned and fell to the ground, barely conscious. As the hazy darkness encompassed him, he bit down, hard.

"No!" cried George, running to him, but it was too late. His face had turned an unnatural shade of blue and his eyes were glazed over. The poison capsule in his tooth had killed him instantly. George turned away, shuddering, and collapsed into Nancy's arms weakly, sobbing. Tears leaked from Nancy's eyes as well as she rubbed her friend's back.

Frank, meanwhile, picked up the metal pole with which the Assassin had been bludgeoned. "Emergency brake?"

Bess stepped out of the shadows, deathly pale and shaking. "I'm sorry." she said quietly, trying to keep her eyes off the bodies. "I didn't mean for him to die."

Frank enfolded her in a friendly hug. "No, Bess, don't be sorry. If you hadn't done what you did, he would have killed us. We should be thanking you."

"I followed you here." she said meekly. "Even though I was supposed to go home."

"And we're all glad you did." Nancy told her, leading over a tearful George. "We just wanted to protect you. But we shouldn't have doubted you."

Frank gave her shoulders a comforting shake. "After all, you've come through for us before... and rescue by parking break has got to be your greatest accomplishment to date, am I right?"

Bess cracked a small smile. "It was the only weapon I could find." she admitted. "By the way, you should thank Mr. Drew and Mrs. Hardy for the 'police' distraction. Mrs. Hardy found your whistle in the lobby, George, and Mr. Drew used the receptionist's microphone." Then she frowned at her friends. "By the way, you three owe me a big explanation of what is going on."

Nancy froze. "Distraction?" she repeated numbly.

"The police aren't really here." Frank groaned. "Of course."

"That Assassin is getting away!" George finished, bolting for the door.

Frank caught her. "He's long gone by now." he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He looked around the room, his gaze sweeping over two Assassin corpses and his three weary companions, and said, "What do you say we hit the hospital again?"

"What? Why?" Bess asked.

Nancy smiled painfully and gestured to the gash in her forehead. "Pistol-whipped." she said.

George and Frank winced, both having been there.

"That'll need stitches." Frank told her. "But aside from that, are you all right?"

"More or less." Nancy cracked tiredly.

"Good," Frank said, slinging an arm over her shoulders and leading the girls out of the room. "Because I have a feeling my brother is very worried about you."

Nancy searched his eyes and was surprised to see they held no malice.

* * *

A/N: Well, here it is: your second-to-last chance to review this story! PLEASE let me know what you think and stay tuned for the last chapter! _Okay, you can review now..._


	17. Fair Game

A/N: Oh, dear, last chapters are so hard to write, aren't they? Wrapping everything up in a neat little chapter with a cheesy closer and worrying about things like _sequels_? It's gonna be hard to let go of this one; it's been fun. Wow, I guess we'd better get to the chapter before I find myself in the throes of an emotional breakdown...

Disclaimer: (insert disclaimer here)

* * *

"I hate missing out on the action." Joe lamented, lying back on his pillows as Frank, George, and Bess took turns relating their parts in the Network building fiasco. Carson, Laura, Fenton, and the Gray Man were also positioned around the bed, making for one irritatingly crowded hospital room. 

Bess eyed the bandages binding his chest and remarked, "No, I think you've seen too much action for one week."

Joe shook his head teasingly. "It's all relative. You think I've seen too much action, I think you own too many shoes... and yet, we always want more." he smiled at the mock indignation on Bess's face as his eyes floated to the door for what seemed like the tenth time that minute.

Joe and Fenton had been frantic by the time the group returned to the hospital, having received a call for reinforcements to the Network building, but unable to go and help. Fenton's fears were easily calmed by the sight of Laura, Frank, Carson, Nancy, George, and Bess, all alive, but Joe had yet to see Nancy, who'd been whisked off to get stitches for her head the moment she set foot in the hospital building, and he couldn't put his mind at rest until he did.

Frank followed Joe's gaze and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, relax, bro. She's fine."

"I know..." Joe said, trailing off as his nurse came into the room with a not-so-friendly reminder that only two visitors were allowed in the room at a time.

"This man needs rest! This is a hospital, not a dinner party!" she reprimanded.

"It's a good thing, too." Joe cracked as his visitors started to get up. "Because the food here definitely isn't up to dinner party standards..." He shot the nurse a wink, but she only gave him a disapproving glance and left.

"Looks like the old Joe Hardy charm is wearing thin." Frank noted with amusement.

Joe shook his head. "Ever since I got married... I don't understand it." His family and friends chuckled at the brothers' banter as they filed out of the room.

The Gray Man stopped in the doorway and turned back to the Hardy Brothers. "I'm afraid I have to be going." he told them. "There's a lot of business to attend to; relocating the Chicago office, first of all."

Frank and Joe, now the only other people in the room, nodded. "Of course." Joe said. "Because god forbid we know where to find you."

The Gray Man smiled tightly. "It's for your safety and ours. Now, I've got to go. Give my best wishes to Nancy and Miss Fayne, and take care of yourself, Joe. I'd say goodbye, but I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding your way back to us next time you need to be bailed out of trouble." With a nod and a enigmatic smile, he ducked out of the room and disappeared.

Frank and Joe looked at each other in disbelief. "Next time _we_ need to be bailed out!" Frank exclaimed. "More like the next time we need to bail the _Network _out!"

Joe grinned and shook his head. "I hate that guy..."

"Yeah, but he comes through once in a while." Frank replied. He sat back down in the chair next to Joe's bed. "So, feeling any better now?"

Joe was looking at the door again. "Much better." he said, smiling. Frank looked back and saw Nancy standing in the doorway.

She crossed over to Joe's bed and leaned down to peck him on the lips before perching on the edge of the bed. "Okay," she teased. "How are you _really _feeling?"

"I feel okay, actually," Joe answered. "I don't know what they're giving me for the pain, but I definitely like it."

"Oh, great," Nancy said, looking at Frank. "He's drugged up."

"It's hard to tell." Frank smirked.

"Everybody's a wise guy..." Joe groaned. He took Nancy's chin in his hand and tilted it down so he could examine her head. Her hair partially obscured the white gauzy bandage plastered on her left temple, but he could see the bruises starting to form around it. "Are you sure _you're _okay?" he asked her.

Nancy gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll have an ugly bruise, and a killer headache when the aspirin wears off, but there's no permanent damage." Joe's relieved blue eyes gazed into hers. Unable to help herself, she leaned down again, this time pressing her lips more fully against his. As Joe returned the kiss, she found herself feeling as dizzy as she had earlier, but in a good way. Joe's arms encircled her waist and he pulled her closer.

Frank averted his eyes uncomfortably, the pang of jealousy not entirely gone. Hating himself for being so immature but unable to watch a second longer, he coughed softly.

They separated immediately, stunned at their own callousness, unable, for a moment, to find words to say to Frank.

Frank gave them a sad smile. "Hey, guys, it's okay. I'll be okay."

Nancy and Joe shared a look, then turned their guilty eyes back to Frank. "Frank..." they said at the same time.

They were obviously in love. Frank noticed that the feeling of numbness he had originally experienced was almost gone. _She's good for him. He's good for her. _he thought vaguely. Looking up, Frank suddenly found himself staring into his favorite two pairs of blue eyes.

Joe spoke up. "Frank, I know it will take time, but I... we... _need_ you to be okay with this." _What else can we do? I'm not going to apologize for loving her._

Frank read into Joe's statement and understood. "I know." he said. _And I will be..._ e_ventually._ A wave of self-pity broke over him. He studied the floor.

"But Frank," Nancy leaned forward on her knees. "We're glad you're back, never doubt that."

Frank just looked at her dully; as if_ those _words could have any effect on his mood. "Nancy, we still need to talk..." he trailed off, looking at his brother.

Joe smiled vaguely. "Go, stay... it doesn't matter, I'm half-asleep anyway." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Nancy laughed quietly, but, turning to Frank, she saw that he wasn't laughing. Nancy tensed and prepared herself for the conversation she saw coming. Neither she nor Frank spoke for a long moment: the calm before the storm.

Frank ran a hand through his hair. "Dammit, Nancy." he said, "I love you!"

Nancy frowned at him, surprised by the intensity of the attack, if not by the attack itself. "Do you?" she asked. "Frank, I'm not the only girl in the world."

"You were!" Frank shot back. "For a long time the thought of you was all I had." He was suddenly unable to look her in the eyes.

"You don't have that now." Nancy said, her voice pleading for him to understand. "Times change. People change!"

"Some things don't change. Maybe I haven't." Frank said.

"You more than all of us!" Nancy cried. "...And isn't it possible that maybe, just maybe, you're so focused on the memory of loving me that you didn't realize when you stopped feeling the actual emotion? You haven't seen me in five years! I could be a completely different person!"

Frank reeled back as if he'd been slapped. _Could Nancy be right? Had he stopped loving her without seeing it? _

"And furthermore:" Nancy was on a roll now, furiously letting out all the frustration she'd been too timid to release in front of Frank before. "I don't know who _you_ are anymore! I know the Frank Hardy _I_ know would never treat a friend the way you treated George!"

Frank's head snapped up in surprise. "The way I treated George?" he repeated incredulously. "What are you talking about?"

Nancy's anger ebbed away as she realized he really didn't know what she meant. "Oh, Frank..." she sighed. "Are you blind? She's been great to you: giving you emotional support, a place to stay, and you're so wrapped up in this thing with me that you never even look her way!"

Frank took a minute to figure out what she was implying, then looked at her, astonished. "You really think that George...?"

Nancy shrugged. "Why is that so implausible to you?" she asked. "Listen. I'm not trying to push you at her, or anyone else, for that matter, because I know you need time, but you can't hold on to me forever." She saw the irony in the situation: this conversation closely mirrored the one she had had with George on that day, so long ago, when she started to give up Frank and, in turn, allow herself to fall for Joe. " '_You don't have to rush into anything, but at least keep an open mind.' _" she murmured, more to herself than Frank.

Frank was feeling a little bit of everything: anger, frustration, confusion, and, most of all, overwhelmed. If the past few days had been an emotional roller coaster, he felt like emotionally throwing up.

Nancy sensed this and, although she wanted to hug him, she thought it was best to let him sort it out on his own. Any tender gestures she made towards him could easily add to the emotional overload he was experiencing. Instead, she tried to lighten the mood. "Do you think we should tell Joe he can stop pretending to be asleep?"

Frank looked up at her, grinning wanly. "I dunno, at least he's quiet this way."

"Not nice, Frank." Joe mumbled, eyes still closed.

Nancy and Frank laughed, and Nancy could see some of the warmth returning to his eyes. _Maybe we **can** do this, _she thought. _We needed to do this: to yell and talk and laugh. And if we can survive that, then we're going to be alright.

* * *

_

George gasped, startled, as she came out of Nancy's house to find Frank sitting on the porch swing.

"Hey."

"Hi." George replied slowly. "What are you doing out here? Why didn't you come in?"

He shrugged, not getting up. "I'll talk to Joe and Nancy tomorrow. Just thought I'd come and pick you up here. It's the least I can do." George had shared her apartment, her car, and her time with him for the past month while he'd gotten back on his feet: physically, emotionally, legally, and financially.

George smiled, even though it was hard to see due to approaching twilight. "Frank, I told you, you don't owe me anything. Friends-"

"Don't let friends drive drunk." Frank finished mock-seriously. Since his talk with Nancy so long ago, he had made sure to show his appreciation for George, and it had started to melt into affection.

George laughed. "I think you're getting more like Joe every day."

Frank wasn't sure what to say to that. He supposed he had changed a bit; had gained an appreciation for the light side of things and for life in general: something Joe had had all along. "How is Joe, anyway?" Frank asked. "I didn't get a chance to talk to him today."

George rolled her eyes. "His attitude is back to normal." she said. "Physically, he's still in some pain, I think, but it's getting easier for him to walk and everything. He'll be okay."

"No doubt about it. He'll always pull through." Frank said. "Nancy still fussing over him like crazy?"

George laughed. "Yep," she confirmed. "He's been home a week now and she's still waiting on him hand and foot... I think by this point she's just doing it to drive him nuts. He's begging her to stop."

Frank chuckled. "He really is crazy about her, isn't he?" he mused. "You know, after Iola, he never really had anyone else... Vanessa, maybe, but Nancy...she's good for him."

"Yeah..." George said softly, wondering if this conversation was heading for dangerous waters. "And vice versa." she reminded tentatively.

"I know." Frank said with a half-smile. George relaxed. He looked up at her suddenly. "Hey, George, I need to make a confession." Frank said, motioning her to sit down.

George sat next to him, her movement causing the swing to rock gently. "Yes?"

"I don't have a suit for the wedding."

George grinned. "That's no secret." she said. "No problem; we'll go out and find one tomorrow."

"See?" Frank said. "This is what I mean: you're always taking care of me."

"It's fun." George teased. "Sort of like having a pet dog."

"But without the fetch." Frank reminded, causally resting an arm around her shoulder. They sat like that for a moment before Frank broke the silence. "I can't believe someone is crazy enough to marry Bess." he mused fondly.

"My thoughts exactly." George deadpanned. "And the June wedding: so clichéd."

Frank looked past George's profile at the stars that were beginning to appear and suddenly grew serious. "George, thank you."

"You're welcome." George replied, not automatically, but with the air of someone who has had the same conversation over and over. The next part was new, however; Frank's deep brown eyes were boring into hers, and neither of them could look away. Before they knew it, they were drawing closer, their lips on a collision course, too close to miss. Her breath hitched for the slightest instant as he tilted his head to meet her lips. Before they touched, though, George jerked back as if she'd been burned, sending the swing bouncing creakily. "What are we doing?" she asked sadly.

Frank leaned back, his dark eyes shining with concern. "George?"

"It's too soon." she said. Seeing his confusion, she added, "Not for me, for you. I don't want to be a rebound girl, a second choice because you can't have Nancy."

Frank frowned. "That was never my-"

"I know you don't mean it like that." George interrupted. "But how would you know? It's only been a month; could you possibly be over her already?" It was taking all of her willpower not to just kiss him now and worry about the implications later. On the other hand, she didn't think she could handle it if they found out later that he didn't love her that way.

Frank knew she was being wise. "I understand." he nodded, feeling admonished by and, at the same time, attracted to, her gentle logic. Nancy or no Nancy, Frank knew he would never intentionally take advantage of someone like George, and he wanted her to know that. A twinkle entered his eye. "In the future, however..."

George smiled inwardly. "The future is fair game." she acknowledged.

Frank looked at her long and hard. "Good." he finally replied.

"In the meantime," George continued, "My cousin is getting married in two weeks and I still need a date for the wedding..."

The tense atmosphere evaporated as they returned to their friendly banter. Eventually, they made their way off the porch and down to the car, each harboring their own separate triumphant thoughts.

* * *

A/N: That's a wrap! ... (strangled sob) Well, you guys have all been great readers and reviewers, and I hope my ending didn't disappoint you. (If you're one of those people who didn't want George and Frank together, just pretend they drove over a cliff on the way home, you happy-ending nazis! Relax, I'm _just kidding._) 

Hmm, status report: No sequel in sight for this one. Sorry. (Although for those of you who liked this one, I may write some more Nancy/ Joe in the future. I've got a few ideas, so don't despair!) I'm going to try to pick up on TCC now, but don't hold your breaths, because... well, I just recently started a sequel for LMM, and I'm really excited about it, so look out for that... eh, soonish. Darn, I can't think of any other way to prolong this note, so I'll finish with my usual plea for reviews. What you thought of this chapter, overall opinions, whatever: for old times' sake, please review!


End file.
